Alice: Return
by DevastationofAlice
Summary: Ten years ago, Alice fell through the rabbit hole and found a whole new world.   A decade on, driven mad by the tragic death of her entire family in a horrific fire, she answers a distress summons and returns, seeking solace from her loss.
1. Madness,Absurdity,and Death in between

**Disclaimer: Electronic Arts (EA) and American McGee hold all copyrights to American McGee's Alice**

**Chapter One: Madness, Absurdity, and Dementia in between**

The door clicks open, a sound not a sound.

The Doctor trots in, hurriedly flipping his pocket watch open and examining it thoroughly before stowing it in his left pants pocket. He pulls over a rickety chair, the same one he replaced at the end of the last consultation. Trying to smooth his hair and suit at the same time, he spares the prone figure on the tattered mattress a nervous glance.

"Alice," he calls, clasping a record loosely in one hand and a sharpened pencil in another.

Me.

I deign to swivel my eyeballs towards him. Expectant. Unsure. Maybe I would have looked like that, if I had been leading my past ten years like a normal person. But then, if I were a normal person I wouldn't BE here would I?

He blinks, not sure whether to be pleased or concerned to get a response out of me. "Ah, yes, good. So," he glances hastily at the scribbled record. Not that he has been able to do much scribbling. "How are you today?"

I finger the dusty ears of Rabbit mechanically "Well," my tone as dead as my movements. And my heart.

"Uh, very well, very well, I was hoping that today we could perhaps touch on coming to terms with the…"

At his words, I saw red. All around my vision, tongues of flickering flames licked at the edges the same way a cigarette burn eats away at a photograph. My ears catch none of Hieronymus Q. Wilson's (what an utterly ridiculous name) questions, but are filled with crackling, roaring and screaming. Echoing, tortured screaming.

"_Fire! Fire!" _

_"Hurry, we must save Alice!" _

_"Daddy? Mummy?" _

_"Hush, Alice! Drop everything and run!" _

_The doorknob, roasted by the flames, is searing to the touch, but my father yanks it open and is greeted by the staircase leading to the bottom floor crashing down. _

_"No! Dad, Mom, I can't just leave you like that!" _

_"We have no time for this, Alice. Save yourself!" _

_My father heaves me out of the window into the hard snow, but before he could help Elizabeth out, the fire-weakened mansion collapsed._

"NOOOOO!" A bestial scream rips its way out of my throat, and I grab the most lethal weapon I can find, hurling a pencil so hard it snaps against a closing door. I cannot even see enough of his fast-receding figure to get enraged at. I'm not sure about his credentials as a psychologist but that guy has a hell of good reflexes. Stalking over to the grimy windows, I swing the badly-ripped curtains shut, blocking out some measure of the unbearable light.

I cast my eye gloomily around the filthy, bloodstained room. It never seems to be tidied, but then an institute such as this probably doesn't get enough grants to keep it going, much less clean.

They declared me a ward of the state, and took everything away from me — anything that could remind me of my parents, what remained of my dresses, every last one of my toys…except Rabbit. One could hardly blame them, perhaps. Better to remove these tokens of my painful past. Better to encourage the possibility of a future without needing to think, to remember my loss.

Perhaps it was all going well. And I did really try. I tried to leave my past where it belonged. To forget those I'd left behind…

Then—somebody _touched_ Rabbit. Tore him apart and put him back together into something he was not. When my trembling fingers touched his face I realised what I'd been doing to myself. Trying to remove the parts of myself which should be mine to bear. Trying to be something I shouldn't be.

I knew it wasn't too late to change. Make both of us right. So I ripped out that eye which did not belong.

And, with the little sewing scissors I managed to smuggle in, I cut into myself. Ripping myself from this world, to which I did not belong.

But in a fit of misguided kindness they caught me in time before all the life flowed out of me. I kicked and screamed in defiance, not knowing why they wouldn't just understand, that _I _had to die, I was trying to pay for what I had done to my family, but despite the blood splattering their clean white suits the strong asylum personnel pinned me down on a table while the doctors wrapped countless rolls of thick white bandages around the fresh wound. Then they did the same for the other, as yet uninjured one, just for good measure.

Thus even that choice was taken from me. A choice that should have been mine. As were my parents. Were. They were taken, just like everything else. My property. Which I lost. My fault. In the fire. It was me. I didn't rush back in. I didn't pull them out and hug and thank them for saving my life. Three lives were lost for mine. Elizabeth, Dad and Mom…

My fault. And there is no solving that.

Pain pain is good which I won't get good I don't deserve good I've been a bad, bad girl I'm sorry I'm so sorry, Mom I wasn't good enough I wasn't good enough to save you Dad I'm so, so sorry, Elizabeth, it was ALL MY FAULT I DON'T DESERVE TO LIVE.

Down the hallway, I hear as if in a dream, the mutterings of the Rutledge asylum workers…

"That annoying Liddell girl again…still a mess. So _much_ more trouble than she's worth. Complete waste of Dr. Wilson's time, if you ask me…"

* * *

I used to wonder how asylum residents could scream and yell or continue on other related mad behaviour for so long. I mean, I was sure it would get tiring or boring at some time. But then again, I was the one locked up in the madhouse so who was I to judge?

My first-hand experience seems to have proven my theory right, though. Except being tired or bored just aren't sufficient to stop madness from consuming you. Even after beating myself up for ten years, it just won't let up. Nothing can even come close to assuaging the pain that gnaws within me. This probably explains these strong leather straps securing my limbs to the bed frames. Now I can't even touch the new bandages.

I spot a movement near the edge of the bed.

Well, with my new accessories I can't really do anything about it even if it was a demented killer determined to slaughter the first person he sees.

One mad person deserves another, I guess.

Then Rabbit grabs my hand and rasps, "Save us, Alice!"

I couldn't even sputter at the improbability of that before the room, straps and all, dissolved into a swirling whirlpool of dizzying colours. And as gravity took its hold, all I thought was, What the Hell?

* * *

To the uninitiated, falling is a boring activity as well. A three-hour long one even more so. It is occasions like this where the random insane thought comes really in handy. Anything was better than dwelling upon the inevitable hard landing.

Strangely enough, the impact didn't shatter every single one of my bones, as I expected. Though it may have once been a sanctuary, I'd forgotten how odd Wonderland was.

Shaking off the effects if my sudden descent, I smoothed down my dress—burnt and bloodstained, but still in much better shape than the shift I'd worn at Rutledge—and stared about, trying to get my bearings. And this…thing resembling a skeleton with four legs simply appeared out of the air and sauntered towards me.

"Chessur," I drawl, unimpressed by his, well, unimpressive appearance. "I hope they've been feeding you. If you were considering getting as mangy as possible, thinning down that smile shouldn't have been too much of a trouble."

"I much prefer to see myself as…'lithe'. As for the smile…you can't help who you are, can you?" Grinning complacently, he licked his paws and continued, "You, on the other hand, have gained quite an attitude since the last time you were here. Still adventurous and willing to learn, I hope?"

"Whatever, But I would appreciate it very much if…damn."

How typical of a Cheshire Cat. Simply vanish when a girl needs help in an alien place.


	2. World of the Damned

**Disclaimer: EA holds all copyrights to American McGee's Alice**

**Chapter Two: The World of the Damned**

Walking through a rotting doorway, I pondered upon the possibility that this might be just one of the fantastic imaginings my deranged mind, perhaps further induced by some mind-altering drugs introduced by the devious Doctor, while surgeons in starched white gowns gleefully slice open my brain to explore the mysteries within. Of course, I was quite sure my mind was no longer capable of conceiving such a forgotten image, and even if it was, I wasn't in the position to change my fate, was I.

Which was when I bumped into the gnome.

If this was a dream, it's definitely a very realistic one,

"Sure haven't seen your kind in a long time. Mind telling me…Oh, don't run! I'm not going to eat you!"

Just as I was about to go after the fleeing little man, who was fleeing fast indeed considering the sack of rocks on his back, a rather small and surprisingly strong ball of fur cannoned straight into me, knocking me down.

Now excuse me, mist-" "Oh, do be quiet, Alice! We're very late, very late indeed!" and with that, what appeared to be Rabbit bounded off further into the mine. Curiouser and curiouser. Though that black suit is a nice addition. "Hey! Wait up!" I yelled, beginning to run. I can just see how this could be an exhausting return. Indeed.

* * *

Something seems to have changed in Wonderland since the last time I was here.

I mean, other than my highly questionable mental state, which has been interestingly lucid for the time I've been chasing rabbits. Either that or global warming has begun changing this world in ways our scientists could never have predicted.

Eyeing the chunk of ore steadily dissolving in the simmering lake of acid suspiciously, I continued picking my way gingerly over the spider web of wooden planks crisscrossing the dark, dank mine. Towards the tiny figure running on two stubby legs, the large sack labouring his jog sufficiently for me to catch up.

"Yes! Got you at last! Now you have some explaining to do!"

The gnome shivered in my vice-like grip, his eyes dull. "Our land is destroyed; our spirit crushed," he intoned.

"Reminds me of the asylum. Is there no joy here?" For that was true. All through my chase, all I could see were depressed miners, forlorn miners, morose miners, and…more depressed miners, their arms swinging against the rock walls perfunctorily, the very light of life seemingly burnt out of their eyes by the endlessly backbreaking work they were forced to toil at. Definitely unlike the cheerful land of, well, wonder I chanced upon ten years ago.

"Slavery and happiness do not dwell in the same house…" the gnome muttered, bringing me out of my reverie, wriggling out of my grip.

Just then, Chessur materialized before me, watching the gnome scurry off.

Frowning, I said, "Wonderland's become quite weird. How is one to find her way?"

"As knowing where you're going is preferable to being lost, _ask_. Rabbit knows a thing or two, and I, myself, don't need a weathervane to tell which way the wind blows. Let your need guide your behaviour; suppress your instinct to lead; pursue Rabbit!"

"How simple you make my life," I sigh at his disappearing visage, running further into the mines. One torch bearing gnome, seeing me run past, remarked sadly, "Stir up no trouble, stranger! The Red Queen's agents are ruthless."

Pausing before him, I spat, "I'm not afraid of her or her creatures! Never was, really. You should stand up to her!"

"Defiance is useless. While the Queen reigns, only death can release us from this misery."

"Or her death, perhaps?"

Lesson Number One: Speaketh of the devil, and the devil arriveth. No sooner had I finished bragging did an axe-wielding card guard slam his weapon into the ground mere inches beside me. Taken aback, I whirled around to see the guard shredded into a dozen quivering bits by razor sharp claws. As the guards head landed in the pool of flesh and blood which once made up his body, Chessur leapt nimbly over to land before me while I stared agape at his radical transformation. Now bipedal, his body rippled with bulging muscles, and each paw boasted four five-inch long claws, dripping with blood and gore.

Licking his right claws, he held out his left paw as if to shake my hand, except in it was a long, wicked-looking knife. I took it, admiring its sheer lightness and the pleasing shriek it made as it swung through the air. Pitching it in the distance, it flew back like a boomerang. Watching me play with my new toy, Chessur spoke grimly, "The Card Guards are tools of the Queen. All suits are dolts, but dangerous. Your knife will be necessary, of course, but not sufficient. Always collect what's useful. Reject only your ignorance and you may survive."

"Well, thank you for your overwhelming confidence in me, sir," my voice dripping with sarcasm, watching him shrink back to a skeletal shadow of his more formidable form. "Though I must admit that the claws are a nice improvement."

Spying Rabbit bolt past, I set off in hot pursuit, only to see him magically shrink and leap through a hole just large enough for my fist to fit in.

"Oh, now what?" I grumbled.

"And what might you be moaning about. Moaning _never_ helps." These pessimistic, ubiquitous gnomes were definitely getting on my nerves.

"Yes, I get it; everyone seems completely dejected, blah blah blah. Are things _really_ as bad as all that?" "The truth would reduce you to a blubbering baby. Are you the saviour that Rabbit has been tellin' us about all this time?"

"I wouldn't hope so, or Rabbit **would** be the cause of all your troubles. Right now I just want to be…_this_ small."

"Arr…calls fer some serious twistin'. Yer'll needa go sideways, not forward. I'd be doing it if I knew how."

"Not twisted! Just to be smaller in size."

"Hurm…one in the Fortress of Doors may hold such secrets. Take more than a wish to get in there."

"Doors have locks, which need keys. Let's hope the doors are unlocked," purred Chessur.

"Indeed…or there may be more than one way to skin a cat, if you'll pardon the expression."

"A most unpleasant one it is. Please avoid it in the future."

"Can you get us inside the fortress of Doors?"

"Oh! I wouldn't even dare. Since the Red Queen took over we've all become gutless half-wits. I can't even risk crossing the road! However...if you go deep into the mines, you will find one braver and wiser then I. He may be of some help..." Shuddering, he plodded off.

Into the hole again, we hurried along our way, into a once-glorious garden now seeped in dark decay.

Hey, that rhymed.


	3. Cardemonium

**Disclaimer: Electronic Arts (EA) and American McGee hold all copyrights to American McGee's Alice**

**Chapter Three: Cardemonium**

"Why do you pursue me to this deserted place?" murmured the Gnome Elder, peering up at me through thick white cataracts. Coupled with his salt-and-pepper beard, deep-set wrinkles and hacking cough, this prune of a face was one that only a mother could love, and probably only if she had cataracts as thick as his. "To benefit from your wisdom, of course," I said distastefully.

"Ha! Even blurred vision is valued by the blind. If I were clever, would I cower in this slag heap? I'm not wise, girl…just old."

"I just wish to get very small, no bigger than a mouse. Do you know how I might do that? And _don't_ call me 'girl'."

"Only that? Oh yes. I could manage _that_. For a price."

I narrowed my eyes at him, stating, "I have nothing of value."

"You have your nerves and your health. Mine are nearly gone. I've seen too much suffering. And I smoke too much, you see."

"Point taken. How may I help?"

"Deep inside the card guards' compound, a particularly rough diamond holds the key, under armed guard by a Two and Three of Clubs. Obtain that Key for me, and I will…return the favour. Now, follow me."

Hobbling over to a lever, he twisted it upwards heavily, and the wall beside him grated upwards to reveal a shimmering, reflective portal-like surface. "Ladies first," he said politely, motioning for me to walk through, improbable as _that_ sounded. "Ah, the Looking Glass Continuum. Haven't seen one of those used in a long time, though."

"Speak English, cat," I hissed. "Step into one Looking Glass, and with luck or lots of practice, you'll emerge in another Glass nearest to your intended destination. This one, on the other hand, is a bit more special. Step in the Glass and there's only one other Glass you can step out of. That right, Elder?"

"'S the only way we can avoid the Queen's spying eyes. And if you don't step through quick, we'll be spied upon real quick, you mark my words," he asserted, hurrying all of us into the mirror.

I have to say, I was dazzled by the kaleidoscope of brilliant hues, the light from the mirror refracting and reflecting off the vaguely cylindrical walls at impossible angles to provide an amazing sight, and I was sorry indeed to see the Elder grind shut the Glass. "I'll betcha the next time you won't be admiring the view as much as you're running for your life," grumbled the Gnome Elder, who promptly vanished at the same time as Chessur. Reminder to self: I _really_ need to pick up that trick. Then again, that'd be denying my knife its first chance at action.

"Hey! Over here!" I shouted, blade in hand, running straight towards the two Club Guards with expressions that spelled i-n-f-u-r-i-a-t-e-d in flashing capitals. Sidestepping the clumsy Three of Clubs, I twirled between the guards, knife extended, opening up long, ugly gashes in their backs and midriff. As the Two of Clubs doubled over in pain, I swung my knife down diagonally, cleaving him open as though I were slicing paper, then turned to behead the Three of Clubs as he hefted his axe above his head to strike. It hadn't taken more than two minutes for me to overcome the so-called "armed" guards. Picking up the glinting key-shaped diamond on the table, I unlocked the door at the back of the room, in time to see and enormous flying mechanism float up from the yawning chasm just outside the door, with the Gnome Elder pedalling and operating its humming propeller.

"You have the key! Most resourceful. It seems that Rabbit's trust is not misplaced," the Elder remarked as I hopped on the passenger's basket. "We will, or rather I will, use the key to lead my fellow kind in an uprising against those abominable Card Guards, and free them from this oppression. They have suffered enough."

"I really feel sorry for your people, indeed I do," I said in a tone clearly indicating otherwise. "But what about getting me small?"

"Within the Fortress of Doors is a Skool, and within it is scattered various items I can mix up in its laboratory to make a concoction to get you small," he droned.

"Items? What items?" "Item, items, you'll know'em when you see'em. Speaking of seeing, we should keep out of the Card Guard's — Dammit! We've been spotted!" The Elder grunted and began spinning the captain's wheel.

Curious, I peeked overboard — and was immediately rewarded by a stream of sleek, _steel_ cards whipping wind across my face. Pulling back hurriedly, I yelled, "Are they armed with…machine guns?" "Automatic Card Ejectors, or ACEs for short. Spews an entire deck — 52 cards — a second. Any one of those cards they fire can leave a deep cut in your face or my balloon, so you best keep your pretty head in and let me concentrate on steering." Card guards firing cards…to guard. I'm confused.

Old he might be, but his steering expertise was quite top of the notch indeed. Especially when he was manoeuvring a bulky balloon against weapons spitting steel fifty-two times a minute. "You'll have to fight these guards soon enough, but for now…JUMP!" The gnome Elder swiftly drove his crazy contraption near a ledge jutting out of a high wall of the Fortress. "Protective walls may impede you, but the walls most difficult to penetrate are those surrounding our hearts." "Sometimes, Chessur, I'm not sure if you're trying to be funny, or just messing with my head. Probably both." Glaring his way, I braced myself, and leapt.


	4. Fortress of Doors

**Disclaimer: Electronic Arts (EA) and American McGee hold all copyrights to American McGee's Alice**

**Chapter Four: The Fortress of Doors**

"So, we bustin' the front or sneakin' in by the side?"

"You ask that like I'm stupid," I sighed exasperatedly, taking one glimpse of the legions of ACE-armed Diamonds striding up and down before the front portcullis and slipping instead through a dark nook in the wall.

"Intruder! Club Guards, unshuffle and move out!"

Right. That could prove problematic. "Err, Chessur? Any suggestions?" I called out semi-nervously as Club Guards seemed to march out in droves from the guardhouse. "I thought I'd never hear you ask." Grinning widely, he pulled out a syringe full of bubbling crimson liquid, stabbed it into my forearm and emptied the load into my veins in one fluid stroke. Immediately, searing pain razed through every nerve in my body, bringing me to my knees. "What…have you done?" "Time to raise some havoc! The dogs of war are loose!" proclaimed Chessur, cackling in glee as he leapt forth to face the first line of Clubs.

"Arrgh!" my moan of pain slowly morphed into a growl of rage as the transformation took hold. From my skull and shoulder blades, curved, jet-black horns punched through skin, extending a meter past my head and midriff. Beginning from the new-grown horns, my skin inflamed a deep, angry red. Tendons and muscles stood out, taut, on my arms and legs. Finger bones elongated and burst out of my fingertips, ending in malicious claws. In my sight, the warm bodies of the Club Guards glowed red, and an unquenchable bloodlust bubbled wildly to the surface of my thoughts.

Bounding forward, I swung my knife in a wide arc as I descended, felling half a dozen Clubs before they could move their axes skyward. Another squad stepped forward to take their comrades' place, and in a quick succession of alternate blade strokes I slew the five enraged Threes. On my left flank, Chessur batted away helpless Twos ad Fours, then pinned an armoured Six by his neck to a pillar while crushing the skull of a Seven underfoot.

Man, those were some, pardon the pun, bloody good fighting skills.

"Maybe you haven't noticed, girl, but you're slicing thin air," smirked Chessur. My bloodlust took a back seat for a slight moment as I looked around the Fortress courtyard. Twenty-odd Club Guards lay in various positions of death, and the austere brick floor was now covered in a fresh, fine red mist. Striding over assorted body parts, I didn't even feel out of breath. One Seven twitched towards his weapon, and I flung my knife, impaling him at its quivering tip. My skin then lost its healthy colour.

"Don't stare at me like that, I ain't got any more of that stuff," hissed Chessur from across the room. Just then, a Four of Diamonds, obviously alerted by the dying screams of the pathetic Clubs, stepped through a hidden door behind Chessur. Taking one look at the carnage, shock flitted across his face, and he hefted his ACE, ready to fire at my feline ally's back, who simply turned around and ripped his throat out. While I fully appreciated the meaning of "senses of a cat", Chessur picked up the machine-dealer and shoved it in my direction. "I'd suppose this might come in handy against the Diamonds, though you'll need to find cartridges yourself. Good luck getting small…" His outline dissolved and a door rumbled out of view, revealing a spiralling staircase leading up the barbican. As if to make my decision easier, a trio of Diamond Guards emerged and began firing across the courtyard with me in their sights as I sprinted for the stairs, up the tower and onto the battlements.

However, even as I fired a deck into two Diamonds and sawed off the head of the last, an unearthly shrieking reverberated off the stone, seeming to shake the Fortress itself. Two spectre-like creatures with literally jaw-dropping maws floated up on either side of me. "That savage shriek is just the tip of the iceberg that is the Boojums' repulsive personality. They'll eat _anything_. Dispose of them or become a meal. "

"You know, I really am more interested in their vulnerability." I threw my knife at one, but it simply darted off to avoid the blade, leaving an opening for the other Boojum to howl her head off at my back, making me tumble head over heels along the long battlements. Though I twisted and turned to nail them down, whether with razor cards or knife, the annoying ghostly screamers were simply flitting about too fast for the eye to follow. Soon I was feeling pummelled and pissed by their high-pitched keening.

Chessur scowling, by the way, is an interesting sight. "Hit them while they prepare to scream, fool!" His bony tail twitching erratically, claws flashed out at one Boojum that had paused before me, and with a flurry of swipes, it screamed in agony, misty fingers attempting to staunch the rush of vaporous essence out of various gashes, before it abruptly burst into flames, reducing it to a pile of sparkling dust glinting against the dull brickwork. Following his lead, I rolled to avoid the bone-rattling howl of the second while reloading my dealer, then pumped two dozen cards straight into its demented face, noting grimly its pyrolytic demise. Maybe that wasn't so hard after all.

"Collect that dust. Tell you more about it later," said Chessur while looking at something past the battlement walls. "All well and good, but this won't get me inside Skool."

"Indeed. Entering Skool requires a _real_ leap of logic," he stated with a glint in his eyes, pointing in the distance. Following his gaze, I realized that the so-called "Skool" was a Victorian style mansion-like building…teetering back and forth upon a seemingly wooden pole. The twenty-metre drop from the battlements wasn't helping. Trying to gauge my jump, I called out to thin air, "I can hear your sarcastic little laugh, Chessur!"

Well. Here goes nothing then.


	5. Skool Daze

**Disclaimer: Electronic Arts (EA) and American McGee hold all copyrights to American McGee's Alice**

**Chapter Five: Skool Daze**

If I had to envision my ideal school, I'd say my imagination wouldn't have been able to conjure an institute of such proportions.

Well, now it does.

I landed with a thud upon the floor, covered in an opulent, thick carpet that. As I stood up shakily, it seemed that the carpet filled every corner of the enormous Common Room, all of what seemed to be the Room's hundred acres. Looking around and upwards, crimson spotted pillars extended skywards into a ridiculously high marble ceiling that appeared to be…embroidered with elaborate patterns of silver reminiscent of twisting, spiky vines. Walking over to one of the imposing pillars, I noticed that the crimson patterns seemed disruptive and odd. Much too freshly painted.

Peering closely, I made out deep gouges in the expensive metal. I reached out and touched the paint, which came off stickily in my fingers.

Blood.

"Heeheeheehee erhurhurhurhurhur!" Somewhere along the extensive wall, double rosewood doors opened out into the room and a gaggle of…_really_ odd…children scampered out, some on two legs and others on all fours. All equally demented. Staring curiously, I realized that the children had somehow been transmogrified into grotesque cyborg-like creatures. Some had cogs embedded in elbows, other had double-ended screws through the skull, while some already had entire limbs replaced by machines, pistons and steel arms pumping in eerie mechanical motion apart from the twitchy movements of the organic ones.

"Psst! In here!" Wrenching my gaze from the mutilated kids, I saw the Gnome Elder beckoning from behind the doors. Turning back to gawk at the scuttling crowd one more time, I backed into the comparatively small Auditorium and clicked the doors locked. "What the hell happened here?" I questioned the Gnome Elder. "Arr… this recording will explain things better than I." Fiddling with a crystalline projector, he twisted a dial sharply. The millions of tiny crystals giving light to the room abruptly flashed once, and I found myself back in the Reading Room. "Err…" I glanced around, feeling somewhat dumbfounded. Suddenly, the main door burst open, and an army of Skool Children marched in, each pointing some slicing or firing weapon straight at us.

"Ahem. Holo-recording — completely realistic to the sight, but they're not gonna hurt you," the Gnome Elder rumbled, joining me by my side before I began throwing knives in a panic. Trying not to appear foolish, I hissed, "I knew _that_!" Turning my back on him, I watched as a Ten of Diamonds marched in and barked some commands, sending the Children charging up the stairs and swinging up floors using grapple hooks, then emerging mere minutes later harrying groups of sobbing, pleading children. Walking forward to one of the mute Children Soldiers, I realized that though they seemed identical to the children they were herding, two glassy, blank crystals stared out of where eyeballs should have been. Also, some seemed to have had minor, refined alterations, unlike the deranged kids I had encountered: Swiss army knives for fingers, or grapple hook launchers on the shoulders.

"Halt! I will not let you continue to abuse my poor Oysters! Stop in the name of the Princess of Wonderland!" All heads turned to look at a burly sword-wielding bespectacled man sprinting towards the exiting Children Troops. "It is amusing, Mr. Walrus, that so many are willing to believe that myth. Now _stop_." The methodical, cold whisper that cut across the babble of trapped "Oysters" chilled my blood and magically stopped the desperate man in his tracks. Fearing what I would see, I twisted my neck and body, slowly, hesitantly, like I had forgotten the proper muscle movements.

Finally I managed to summon the courage to look, and in strode Tarrant Hightopp in his cruel triumph. Pushing up his signature top hat, the Hatter simply stared past his troops into the terrified teacher's eyes with his own mismatched, bloodred ones. Then he began to giggle. And the teacher began giggling right along with him. As they continued chortling, the teacher started to drool from the mouth, and his eyeballs seemed to bulge out. Even after Tarrant stopped and smiled serenely, the teacher's jowls turned red from the effort, and he collapsed, rolling about on the ground, cackling madly, with all the children pausing in their futile struggles to watch this astonishing display. He had been driven mad by a single stare.

Plucking non-existent lint from his coat shoulder, Hightopp sighed in apparent pity, then murmured to the Ten Diamond, "Take them away and leave behind the failures. Also…" as he turned to leave, he glanced at the helpless teacher and snickered. "Bring along the fat one too. A new pet would be nice. I've always said that one mad man deserves another." As suddenly as it began, the recording dimmed and bright light illuminated the room once again. I couldn't believe my eyes…or my ears, for that matter. How deep a pit had Wonderland fallen, to turn the one who was once my closest friend when I wandered, young and confused and lost, in this dizzying world, and who provided comforting advice and harmless fun through his lively tea parties, into this demented, brutal version?

"This was…one of the better days. There was once where a group of brave Oysters rebelled, when there were much fewer Crystal Cyborgs. The Hatter appeared upon the scene immediately, pulled a rapier out of his hat, and…" the Gnome Elder choked and blinked rapidly, trying to stave off tears. "Their innocent blood will stain the Skool forever. And, of course, you saw what he did to poor Walrus. Oh yes, the Mad Hatter _has_ gone mad indeed…"

"How can I bring the Tarrant I knew back?"

"Eh, nothing for the moment," snapped the Elder, suddenly brisk. "But we need to concentrate on you getting small."

Unexpectedly, the rosewood doors shuddered as a loud crack sounded from right behind it. "Darn, this can't be good. Here, take this," he muttered, passing a long glass rod standing nearby to me. "Splinter Staff. Click this and it will fire a glass shard at your enemies…or you could just swing it about to beat them up. Meet me at the library." "Eh? Hey, hang on I didn't get — !" The doors crashed open as the Elder vanished, and two Four Diamonds charged in. Firing the remaining cards at one of them, I tossed the now-empty Dealer to a side and launched two shards into the other's head and chest with deadly accuracy. Hearing a clicking sound from its side, I noticed a number marked "98".

What? 100 uses only?


	6. Skool's Out…Forever?

**Disclaimer: Electronic Arts (EA) and American McGee hold all copyrights to American McGee's Alice**

**Chapter Six: Skool's Out…Forever?**

"Countless generations of termites would only digest a mere fraction of the volumes here. And they wouldn't be _one_ wit wiser,"

Well, count me surprised. Twice in one day…though I'm not really sure what day and night around here anyway. A cavernous Reading Room was one thing, but the cost of filling a room the same size as this Library was definitely astronomical. Even more mind-boggling, some of the books were taller than I was. I prepared to search for the cowardly Elder when an Oyster ran past, saw me skulking in the corner, and threw a crumpled piece of parchment at my face before dancing a merry jig, clapping his hands and somersaulting on the spot. Chuckling slightly at his antics, I opened the scrap: 'Had to rush. Left the Book of Bizarre Things at a high hiding place for your reference. See you in the Gymnasium.'

"'Seek and ye shall find, they say. But they don't say _what_ you'll find," remarked Chessur, reading from beside my arms. "Then I'd just keep seeking till I find what I'm looking for," I replied, setting off to scour the voluminous stacks.

It wasn't until I was fending off Card Guards attacks from both flanks (why were there Guards here? Are the books _that_ valuable?) that I spotted the enormous, gold-leafed tome resting in an alcove, two storeys up. Swinging the Staff around to knock out the Guards who were rapidly closing in, I then slammed one end into the ground, clearing one imposing shelf in a single leap. "Steps to enlightenment brighten the way; but the steps are _steep_. Take them one at a time," advised Chessur from beside the Book. "Eh? Whoa!" Evidently, the Card Guards had recovered from my assault, and seemed to have enough intelligence left in them to decide that the best way to get me down was to push me off the shelf, which might explain why it was toppling all of a sudden. I jumped for the nearest shelf, which was struck off balance by the one I just leapt off, and ad infinitum…

You know, I never liked playing dominoes.

Then I felt two strong paws grip my shoulders and haul me off the collapsing shelves, and I found myself panting between the humongous Book and a very complacent Chessur. Tottering over to look past the alcove ledge, I saw the Card Guards gesturing angrily at us, pointing their weapons uselessly, then beginning to squabble loudly among themselves.

"I'd say you'd better get around to reading that Book before they argue up sufficient wits to call in Diamond reinforcements."

"There is no lock but it won't open. It's stuck."

"Think of it as a Chinese Box or a stubborn lid — a tap in the right spot might do the trick."

I considered the Book and the quibbling Guards thoughtfully, and kicked it off the ledge, hard, down several floors, a mischievous grin playing across my face. The Book crashed to the ground and grudgingly opened.

"You call that a 'tap'? Fortunate I didn't suggest force. You might have pulverized it!" snickered Chessur as we descended gingerly down the haphazardly fallen bookshelves. Someone was going to have to pick up many pieces.

"Hey, I killed those Guards, didn't !"

"That, I admit, was innovative indeed." I

n their heated discussions, the Clubs didn't exactly rate the large, rectangular shadow above their heads as "highly dangerous". That their skulls weren't stronger than the hardback volume certainly made my job easier.

I read the giant print on the open page: "'Mushrooms, poppies, sugar and spice, all those things are very nice. When combined, the proper mixture makes a getting small elixir.' Hmm. I don't really like sweets."

"It's not really a matter of liking something that's good for you — or not. But I'm quite sure getting small was your main objective."

"Indeed. To the Gymnasium I go then," I answered, finding my way to the Elder in the various spacious rooms.

* * *

I'll say one thing: we're all mad here, but fortunately they get their signs right. Though they might consider looking into suitable repair works. Making my way across the Gymnasium to the Elder, who for some mysterious reason was perching high up on the rafters, was a damn sight harder than it should have been. As I traversed the rotting wooden beams, I couldn't help but glance nervously at the equally bottomless pit beneath my feet, filled with endlessly high piles of books.

"I see you got my message. The Gymnasium should be safe. Cards Guards _never_ exercise — can't afford to lose the weight," rumbled the Gnome Elder as he watched me approach.

"I never cared much for sports at school…although during my ten years at the asylum it was usually either that or beating myself up. Both physically strenuous activities as I'm sure you'll agree. But I don't have to wear a pinny do I?"

"No, it really wouldn't suit you. In any case, I just wanted to inform you that I've found one of the ingredients for the shrinking potion: Mushrooms, freshly picked from the third grade greenhouse. Lovely texture…what's that?"

"It's a sucky prediction, meister!" I spat at him before springing towards what was left of the gym floor to tackle the three Boojums who had somehow floated out of the biblically inclined abyss.

As I prepared to fire shards at one Boojum, the Gnome Elder, surprisingly given his previous attitude, followed me down and, searching hurriedly in his pocket, pulled out a satchel of shining dust not too different from the one I had collected, which he promptly flung into the air. He screwed up his eyes in concentration and the glittering dust reshaped into a test tube full of a glowing green fluid before my astonished stare. "Duck!" he yelled, hurling the tube towards the Boojums. The liquid in it turned red as it flew, and the test tube abruptly exploded in a mini supernova of flames, catching all three spirits in its fury. Literally feeling the heat from the after effects of the chemical bomb, I questioned the Gnome Elder, who was gathering the dust from the expired Boojums: "How in Wonderland did you do that?" "With quite some Arcane manipulation, but to explain more I'll have to take you to the Carpenter before you leave for the Vale of Tears."

"Carpenter? Vale of Tears?"

"Oh, no time for that now! I have to mix up your potion in the Laboratory, and you need to get me a poppy seed."

"The Skool has a laboratory?"

"Of course! This Skool serves more than nasty lunches. The laboratories are especially fascinating…if you can stand the vile stench. Hurry along, now," called the Elder, trotting out of the Gym with me close behind.


	7. The Walrus and the Carpenter

**Disclaimer: Electronic Arts (EA) and American McGee hold all copyrights to American McGee's Alice**

**Chapter Seven: The Walrus and the Carpenter**

"Ah! My pride and joy…quite a pity when the Hatter began his rampage. I do miss the Oysters' laughter…"mumbled the Gnome Elder. "Now, hurry along and get my poppy blooms for me! Since Nature has ordained that certain seeds require assistance to fulfil their destiny, I think you will need this…" he barked, handing me a flask labelled, "Jumbo Grow". "Oh, don't look so surprised. Gardeners store rat poison and fertilizer in sheds. Skools have laboratories for that purpose."

"Fine. But I hate doing grunt work," I complained.

"It is, indeed, a small price to pay."

Later on, I sampled the weirdness of Wonderland once again as right before me, under the effects of "Jumbo Grow", the greenhouse poppy seed grew into a large pink…lollipop. As there wasn't anyone to enquire about this oddity, I plucked the lollipop and ran back to the Laboratory. Unfortunately, when the threw open the door, I was greeted by a scene of pandemonium: apparently, two Club Guards had infiltrated the lab and, scattering about various test tubes and scientific apparatus, were in hot pursuit of the wily Elder around the room. Jumping into the fray, I clothes lined one Four Clubs with my Staff before stabbing him in the head, while Chessur scratched and sliced the other Three Clubs to pieces.

"You're lucky I was passing by,"

"What? You're lucky I was still where you'd left me! Also, I've cooked up the final ingredient: Sugared spice drops. I hope you got that Poppy Seed," he retorted, holding one hand out while setting up various fragile-looking and fortunately unbroken equipment in a complicated arrangement with the other. "This primitive condenser should help us brew the potion…doesn't seem like I can build anything more intricate with what those despicable guards have left me with." Tossing the mushrooms, lollipop and sugared spice drops into a cauldron at one end, he then scattered handfuls of dull-red quartz around it. Watching the mixture bubble as the quartz glowed red hot, it flowed through the condenser's various tubes and finally collected in a small test tube. "Here's the potion," he said, handing me the test tube of purple liquid. "And now you can leave, unless you'd like to meet the Carpenter…?" "I suppose it wouldn't hurt."

* * *

Moments later, after ascending what seemed like an endlessly high Observatory Tower, we stepped off the lift and came to a tiny room with…four empty walls.

"Ok and this would mean…"

"Well, here we are," remarked the Gnome Elder, and as I was still trying to find the non-existent entrance to the Carpenter's room, a garret door had appeared out of nowhere right across the room.

"That definitely wasn't there before!"

"Of course not. We weren't really here yet," commented the Elder cryptically as he rapped the door once, twice and thrice.

"Who's there?" an authoritative voice issued from a speaker mounted upon the door.

"It's me, Mr. Architect."

"You will let me confirm that,"

"Certainly, sir."

Buzzing noiselessly, an eyelike device projected from the door and swept the Elder with luminous green rays. Finally, with a series of clicking and ramming of bolts, the door creaked open to reveal an immaculately-suited man wearing a crisp white lab coat, matching pants and…wielding two tiny yet dangerous-looking firearms. "I'm sorry for the paranoia, but with a tyrant having as much power as the Red Queen it isn't exactly unfounded. Now," he said, pointing one gun muzzle between my eyes. "Who is _this_?"

I gulped, audibly.

"Now, let's not be hasty, Mr. Architect. This here is the Champion Rabbit said would return Wonderland to its former glory."

Still glaring at me suspiciously, "Mr. Architect" holstered one weapon while keeping the other perfectly trained on me. I was getting cross-eyed from staring at its business end.

"But the resemblance to Her Imperial Viciousness is just too — good Heart!"

"Yes. That is the point," intoned the Elder sagely, nodding at the surprised Architect. I was going to complain about them talking about me in front of me as if I didn't exist, but the gun was being a good distracter. At that moment, "Mr. Architect" quickly recovered from his initial shock and waved us in hastily with the weapon, glancing around the outside nervously before locking the dozen locks that kept his door secure. I stood with the Gnome Elder, looking at the sparse but, like the Skool, beautifully furnished room. Having nothing except for what seemed like a Victorian-esque table, a quaint oil reading lamp, and two large chairs on either side of it, the most striking thing in the room was an enormous cabinet made of frosted glass behind the chair facing us.

"Please sit," "Mr. Architect" said, motioning me to one of the chairs. "And will you be staying, Elder?"

"No, I must return to give encouragement to my kinsmen."

"Very well."

Letting the Elder out, he then strode over to the remaining chair and sat down, his electric-blue eyes seeming to peer into the very depths of my soul from across the table. "I suspect the Elder must have told you who I am, but for politeness' sake I will just introduce myself.

"I am the Carpenter, or as people like to call me, Mr. Architect — you may refer to me as that. Together with Mr. Walrus we started the Oyster Skool of Wonderland — I did most of the building while he did most of the teaching. Greatest learning institute around here — of course, until the Hatter went mad." His thick eyebrows bunched and his crow's feet crinkled at the mere thought of that. "But this isn't why you're here. Long story short, the Red Queen took over not long after you left the last time and Wonderland itself descended into madness. Elder probably hopes I can teach you Arcane magic to counter her skills. And I am Wonderland's best Arcane trainer after the Caterpillar, if I do say so myself."

"And _can_ you teach me?"

"I'm afraid I can just touch on the basics, with what little time we have. Constructs, or simple inanimate objects will be what you will be learning — nothing too fancy. You can, of course, attempt more complicated tasks, but it will take its toll physically and mentally…which is something not to be scoffed at — but enough talk! We must begin before it's too late."

* * *

I wasn't sure how long I spent in that room learning the "Arcane Magic" or as I saw it, conjuring. It was one thing to focus hard on an object, but to focus so hard, atom by freaking atom, until it became reality was a whole different ball game. Night and day made no difference in that lamp-lit room, as I continually tried to visualize various objects: a ball, a book, jacks, my knife and so on. Though it seemed that I had plenty of precocious talent in this field, with the Carpenter praising me from time to time as I managed to think the objects to reality (which he assured me he never did except for exceptionally good students) after each exercise the brain drain I felt was scarcely describable, I felt various neurons firing in ways they never had before. "Rest well after each exercise," the Carpenter always said, "You will need plenty of the energy."

After what seemed like many torturous weeks, the blessed words fell from his lips: "Our lessons conclude here. You cannot delay your quest any further. Do you have any questions?"

"Just the one," I said feebly, "When I slay the Boojums, they leave behind a sparkling dust…which the Elder used to create a chemical bomb out of mid-air. What is that, exactly?"

Once again, his eyes X-rayed me warily. "Boojums and Phantasmagoria in general, are the lost, tormented souls of wrongfully dead people, their afterlife minds twisted to crazed vengeance by the tainted presence of the queen. But as they were created by Dark Arcane magic, they leave that part behind as magical Mana Crystals when they are truly slain…I guess, as a friendly teacher-student parting, I should give you something that I hope will aid you on your journey." Opening the enormous cabinet for the first time I was here, he took out three ornately carved dice from the multitude of items and passed them to me. "Chessur will know what they are for. Now drink your potion, and leave by way of this," he whispered, handing me a small Looking Glass. "Now go! Our future lies with you, Your Highness."

Your…Highness?


	8. Making a Splash

**Disclaimer: EA holds all copyrights to American McGee's Alice**

**Chapter Eight: Making a Splash**

"Ah! The Diabolical Dice, Throwing them on the ground may open up a portal to the Demonic Dimensions and release the horrors within upon your adversaries…if you're lucky. One word of caution though — don't ever toss it when alone. The fiends lack loyalty, and their notion of nourishment is _quite_ disturbing."

"I guess I won't need it now, obviously."

Dropping the dice into a pocket, I took in the fresh new surroundings. A placid pool bubbled through damp, grey-black rocks in calm streams amid freshly moistened mud. Behind me, an imposing waterfall crashed down many feet into the main pool, lightly dousing me with spray.

"What is this place? The…_Pool_ of Tears?"

"Indeed…your memory seems quite well on this account."

"But…it's _grown _since the last time I was here. By a _lot_."

"The water in the Pool comprises of the…tears of Wonderlanders, which have, ever since the tyranny of the Red Queen, been produced in rather copious amounts, as you can quite clearly see. In fact, it is now known as the Vale, rather than the Pool, of Tears," explained Chessur patiently.

Turning to look at the waterfall, I spotted the no longer minuscule Rabbit (to me at least) peeking out from one rocky outcrop before proceeding to leap up the waterfall using the jutting rocks. At the same time, and alert…Red Ant, in what seemed like full soldier uniform, with his rifle and golden insignias which glinted in the bright sunlight. Having spotted the Rabbit skulking about, the Ant Soldier heaved one heavy-looking boulder and shoved it off his outpost at the top of the falls. However, the rabbit was just too nimble for surprise attacks to work effectively, and continued hopping his way up.

"Quick!" hissed Chessur, already on the move, "You must not let Rabbit evade you!"

"Right. Yea," I mumbled, following in his footsteps.

Leaping up the rocks was definitely harder than the Rabbit made it look. And coupled with having to duck frantically behind or below nearby ledges from the occasional boulder sent rolling our way, with only Chessur's sharp eyes for any warning, I had came up with some choice swear words to yell in the Soldiers' faces if I ever saw them. Not that they would understand me, I thought ruefully, but on the bright side, I'll be able to play netball better in the future, what with all this jumping. "Now, be careful. The Ant Soldiers' outpost is just past the waterfall," cautioned Chessur as he…vanished. "Great," I muttered, trying to see past the rushing water to spot the best place to land. I was going to be sopping, and…salty. Not a good combination.

"Come here where I can beat you up, Ants!" I challenged, whipping out my splinter staff in one hand and Blade in another.

Turning about on four legs, two Ants, seeming completely unruffled by the threat posed by either weapon, took aim at me with their rifles and fired.

Strafing left, I just managed to avoid one projectile, but felt searing pain as the second bolt grazed my right arm. More concerned on getting these irritations out of the way as soon as possible rather than the wound, (which throbbed in pain from the salty spray thrown up by the rushing falls), I thought fast, pulling out two small metal plates from thin air to deflect the next two shots, then flung both Blade and Staff at their heads.

The Blade stabbed through the tough exoskeleton into the soft flesh, but the Staff simply knocked the soldier senseless, long enough for me to retrieve the blade and cut off his head.

Now that the coast was temporarily clear, I inspected the rock face on which the first two projectiles had hit, and realized with mixed outrage and intrigue that the "bolts" were a mixture of strong acids, already burning my skin from the light graze, and now eating rapidly through the rock. Nothing a bandage wouldn't solve, though, and I resolved to inspect ant bites more carefully in the future.

On a related side note, ants are now my least favourite insect.

"Alice! Over there!" "Huh?" Snapping out of my pain-induced reverie, I turned to see one last Ant Soldier skittering away, before searching his backpack for something.

"Take him down before he sounds the alarm!" hissed Chessur.

BREEEE!

"Well, too late." I dropped down on one knee and fired three shards in a row, but the distress signal had done its deed. As the Soldier twitched in its dying throes, the air was abruptly thick with loud humming noises. Looking up from the insect corpse, I spied three Ladybugs beating their wings rapidly and heading toward us, clutching a peculiarly-shaped object each.

"Is our situation not dismal? Wonderland is so discombobulated that ladybugs gave turned belligerent and enlisted in the Queen's Army. Punish their conversion."

"For what? I'd saw off their heads before their pincers can catch me. They can't do anything to me…" I said smugly.

Before I even finished speaking, though, one Lady Bug flew ahead of the rest, directly overhead, and released what seemed like an acorn. "Watch out!" Chessur broadsided me to hit the rocky wall, and I watched, as if in slow motion, the acorn land heavily on the ground and…explode, peppering the area with hard shell-bits. Wafting away the burnt smell in the air, I got up, Staff at the ready. "I get your point," I growled, gritting my teeth. The Lady Bugs thankfully didn't prove much of a challenge. One glass shard was quite enough to send them tumbling down lifelessly into the rushing stream below. "And now, onward! Insects or not," Chessur proclaimed smoothly.

"Easy for you to say. I can't just shake my dress to get rid of excess water." On top of all that, my shoes were going to be ruined. This was not turning out to be a good day.

* * *

"And what's all this? Did someone die? Or have you lost your family?" As luck would have had it, I'd lost the Rabbit during the tussle with the bugs, but chanced upon, if I remembered right, the greatest contributor to the tears in the Vale: the Mock Turtle.

"No, my shell! The Duchess stole it and tried to eat me for lunch. Nobility must be served, I suppose…" he sobbed.

"Oh, do stop all that wailing, won't you?" I admonished.

Flicking away tears, he turned to glare at me. "You're very cold-blooded for a mammal. I was almost soup!"

"Most tragic, I'm sure, but I'm a bit pressed for time. Have you seen a rabbit, by any chance?"

"Hmm...Twitchy nose, shifty eyes, constantly consults his pocket watch? Most peculiar beast."

Speaking of peculiar beasts, he himself was a creature with a rather ridiculous appearance. I'd cry all day myself if I caught my reflection in the mirror looking like that. Having a dry, scaly body and four clawed flippers, as was befitting a reptile (though when I saw him his skin was glistening — whether from his substantial tearing or some well-spent time in the water I wasn't sure) his head was, quite ludicrously, that of a bull. A rather healthy, large bull head with similarly long curved horns to go with it. In fact, the only reason I could call him a "Turtle" with a straight face was the fact that he _usually _had a thick shell on his back. And today it was missing.

"Well, he's very dear to me. Do you have any idea how I might find him?"

"Not really. But the Caterpillar would know, I'm sure. He knows everything there _is_ to know."

Turning up my nose in disgust, I snorted. "And where does that smushy lay-about hang his hookah these days?"

"Ever since the troubles began he's gone into hiding. I might know of his secret hidey-hole, but the Red Queen has eyes and ears everywhere. I really couldn't risk telling you without…something in return."

"Risk nothing, gain nothing."

"His whereabouts then, for my shell. The Duchess won't part with it willingly."

"Then I'll teach her to part with it _un_willingly."

"You are most brave. But I must warn you, she treats _everything _as food!" He glanced up.

From an overhead branch, two leaves had detached themselves and were spiralling their way down into the river. Stepping lightly on one leaf, he instructed me, "Hop on and follow me. I'll show you the way to the Duchess' house. Ride the currents, but do be careful _not _to fall in. I'd hate to think of voracious fishes snapping at your limbs." Saying so, he rode off along one meandering current, leaving me waiting.

"Sigh. Thanks for the patience," I grumbled at his receding figure.

* * *

He paused before the door and paced for a while, before stepping onto the weight marker and tapping in the entry code. Then, after he had lowered his paw into the clear green gel, allowing numerous nano-biometric sensors to identify him, the crimson metal doors slid open smoothly to allow his entry to the palace.

Striding proudly upon the checkerboard floor constructed of alternating squares of ruby and obsidian, the dim red light shed by the sparse light-crystals did not slow him — if anything, the near infrared surroundings boosted his vision as he made for the dais at the end of the nearly-empty Royal Chamber. Upon it, a mighty throne reared up high, towering over the other six, where, clad in their finest, the Lords and Ladies of the remaining ruling Suits: Spades, Diamonds and Clubs, were seated. The bubble of intense (but as he knew, mostly useless) discussion had been cut off and all six pairs of eyes now gazed at him, haughtily but curiously as he continued to stride towards the current Queen of Wonderland and Looking Glass Land, who was looking out a rose-tinted window pensively rather than actively taking part in the discussion.

"Your Imperial Viciousness, I have news of urgent nature to inform you of…" he whispered, glancing at the Lords and Ladies,"…_alone_."

Without turning to face him, or anyone else, she flicked her hand dismissively at the Royals, while side doors emblazoned with their respective suit symbols opened in the granite walls. As one, the Lords and Ladies rose from their thrones and swept into their respective chambers without comment, leaving behind a frigid silence.

_Still displeased at being ranked lower than an animal, I see, _thought the feline assassin. _Inconsequential. Anyway, I _am _an animal important enough for that especial honour. _"Another Upper Air girl has made her way to Wonderland…with that fool Niven's help of course."

"And this happens to be urgent because…"

He hesitated at Her Imperial Viciousness's icy tone, sensing the famous command at the tip of her tongue. "Your Imperial Viciousness, if the Card Guards' reports are to be believed, this one could prove to be a real threat to the Queendom. Judging by the sheer number of Card Guards she has slain, she would strike them motionless with fear by her mere presence…if they had feelings in the first place. She has shown extreme cunning, bravery and brutality that could almost mat — "

CRACK! The sharp slap echoed throughout the vacant chamber, and the Red Queen's talon-like nails left deep grooves in The Cat's skin where she had slapped.

He tensed, knowing what would follow, yet was unable to stop himself from dropping to the cool floor, both paws clutching his face as he yowled new levels of agony.

"I created you to be my personal bodyguard, assassin, spy, and the counter to the ever-present threat of the elusive Chessur, _not _to prove a demoralising presence to my troops. If you do not have the will, if you do not have the lust for battle, you have _nothing._ I will not hear such pessimism coming from you again. The Cards may lack the necessary skill, not unlike their masters, but they have the numbers, as well as my master tactics to fall back upon." Brimming with cold fury, she glided back to her blood-red throne. "Now leave. And if you're interested, I was using Jujub Bird poison today."

Feeling his face swelling like an overripe pumpkin beneath his hard clasp, he managed no more than a nod before slinking out, wanting to face her rage no more.


	9. Hunting the Duchess

**Disclaimer: EA holds all copyrights to American McGee's Alice**

**Chapter Nine: Hunting the Duchess**

Wakeboarding _is _much easier when you're small enough to have nearly no mass to speak of. On the other hand, it made the Ladybugs, who were all eager to grab at any chance to bomb me off my ride, _very _irritating indeed.

"ARGH! Stupid Ladybugs! I'm killing _every _last one of you if that's what it takes!" I screamed and tottered on the rather unstable leaf, as yet another Acorn Bomb nearly struck me off balance.

"Tell yourself: I've seen worse at Rutledge's. Prevarication in this instance may help,"

"On the contrary, your equivocation _really _isn't aiding my nerves."

Somewhere between shooting down bugs and exchanging barbs with Chessur, I noticed the mock Turtle waving from the nearby bank before loping off again. Giving up the battle to stay standing upon the leaf amid a renewed assault of the bugs, I swam to the shore, which was dotted with a couple of vibrant mushrooms, large roses and…Ant Soldiers.

"O…K. Slowly does it…" I cautioned myself, edging behind the mushrooms, which shimmered beautifully under the bright noonday sun.

"No, Alice, _not _a good idea," warned Chessur. Then, when I passed by the first Mushroom, everything seemed to happen at once: Two beady eyes opened up in the mushroom cap, and with an unpleasant sucking sound, started to draw me in.

The other `shroom, seeing that I was too far away from it to suck, threw back its cap as if to sneeze, and expelled a cloud of dirty green spores in my face, burning my eyes and searing my throat.

The Pink Roses, unwilling to miss out on the fun, unfurled to reveal mouths of gleaming sharp teeth, sitting half a dozen thorns my way.

At the same time, Chessur unsheathed his claws to deal with the Soldiers before I was faced with a three-pronged assault. Their acid bursts useless at such short range, the Ants tried to swing the bayonets mounted on their rifles to fend off the dangerous feline, but he was too fast for them. Thrusting his hips backwards to avoid the blades' deadly arc, his outstretched arms gripped the heads of the Soldiers and twisted sharply, separating head from thorax in one swift movement.

Yet though the cruel Soldiers had been taken care of, I was still receiving a heavy beating. Driving my Staff into the ground, I inched my way forward painfully, spores and thorns stinging my back all the while. Finally escaping the Mushroom's forceful pull, I released volley upon volley of shards at the Mushrooms and Roses till they shrieked, shrivelled and died.

"I enjoy the taste of mushrooms, but not the ones that bite back!" I gasped.

"When the remarkable turns bizarre, reason turns rancid. But that, I would say, is the least of your troubles. Behold that large mansion yonder, upon the torch-lined hill."

I…beheld. It was evidently large and evidently beautiful…once, for it had also evidently fallen into a state of severe disrepair. All these, however, weren't of paramount importance compared to the last observation: The hill itself was overgrown with carnivorous Roses and Mushrooms.

"And how do you propose I pick my way past that minefield?"

"Hey, you're the one looking for the Duchess, not me," replied my companion, shrugging noncommittally.

"Psst! Oiver heyuh'!" Startled by the hiss, I turned around to see a scaly, stocky lizard, peeking out of a clump of bushes.

Hmm. Things were getting interesting.

"Don't I know you?" I said, walking over to him, grasping the knife behind my back in case the turned out to be a nasty trap.

"Bill McGill, at yer service. Call me Larry…er not. Got any branday?"

"No. I've only my wits."

"Then yah have _nuffin'_. Wits a' useless 'ere. Oivrytoing is downsoide up!"

"I must see the Duchess."

"She only sees those who don' wish ta see 'er."

Frowning in partial confusion, both at the comment and interpreting his mashed-up pronunciation, I remarked, "That's not right."

"S' perfect. She's s'posed ta be hidin' from the Red Quoin who wants her dead." "…her head?"

"That, too. Roins moi home, and lets her own become this monstrosity. She's as mad as monkey mash! And just as tas'less. Well, never moind, we'll all perish soon enuff'. Sure yer got no branday?"

"I'm here to retrieve the Turtle's shell. I won't leave without it." "Won't, eh? What'cha gonna do, stick yer thumb in her oi or something? Oi'm yer devoted servant. Owe her a bad turn meself. Follow moi," proclaimed Bill, starting to ascend the hill.

I looked at him, astonished. "Not to dampen your enthusiasm or anything, but how are you get us those plants? Unless you have wings concealed in that rough back of yours."

"Hmm? Oh yea. Neyurlay forgot. Not too long ago there was this roibbit who passed by — "

"Dammit! To think I just missed the feller…Sorry, didn't quite catch you."

"As Oi was sayin', he came along, took one look at the Duchess's garden and desoided he doin' loike the look of oit. So he hands me this, saying it should help clear the weeds," drawled Bill, clutching a…Jack-in-the-Box.

"This is a Jack-in-a-Box, not a lawnmower. That won't help us clear out the plants," I commented dryly.

"That's what Oi said. And he tells me some rubbish about oit being a foinal product of fusin' a phoenix's — can you believe that? — essence with a toi. So Oi tells'im ter stuff oit, but he says 'the girl who'll be coimin' by later will know how ter use oit'…Oi believe that means yah," Bill explained, licking his eyeballs.

"Let me see," I said, grabbing the toy. Not seeing how else to work it, I wound up the toy — and it immediately began to tremble. Violently.

"Darn! That thing's dangerous!" I yelled, lobbing the Box towards the hill. It continued to shake for some time, before the Jack popped out of the cover, and with a roar, began spewing a continuous jet of intense flames, deciminating every Rose and Mushroom upon the hill as it turned in a slow circle. Completing one revolution, it then exploded, sending out a thunderous shockwave that scattered the ashes of the charred herbs to the winds, clearing a path for us. Then the flames seemed to collapse into themselves, incongruously coalescing back into the innocuous Jack-in-the-Box.

"That's one powerful toi." "I'll say." "Jack's a friend, but his temperament is _explosive_; perhaps best to let him play by himself," advised Chessur, smirking at our impressed looks. "And now it's high time you met our dear Duchess," croaked Bill, prodding me up the hill. "And I'll have that," I said, picking up the Jackbomb as we neared the door of the fine establishment, or what was left of it, for giant cards had been taped in place to cover the gaping holes in the woodwork. As I walked right up to the ruined door, it abruptly split into two, and sucked me in, while the yellow-bellied coward Bill ran away screaming at the top of his lungs for no apparent reason.

Sometimes, life sucks, and then you die. But I'm usually not that lucky.

Propelled along the dark, forbidding corridors of the manor, the unknown force finally let up before a locked door. Ramming my staff into the rotting wood once, twice and thrice, I finally broke down the stubborn barrier and emerged into an enormous living room — well, enormous because I was so tiny. Then the floor rocked, and the…fireplace expanded, revealing an equally large, fiendish-looking woman. The Duchess, presumably. Wearing a blotted, filthy cook's smock, holding a pepper spray in one hand, she sniffed the air greedily with her misshapen nose, nostrils opening and closing repulsively. And when she…caught my scent, her lips stretched wide, revealing a row of dirty yellow, jagged teeth in a nasty leer.

I wasn't going to enjoy this.

* * *

Later in his room, while his right paw wrapped half his face in a homemade bandage, he was setting up the chess pieces with his equally dexterous left. _It is by her Imperial Viciousness's decree that all citizens are to engage in the sacred game that is Chess at least thrice a day, to hone their strategic skills and ensure the sharpness of mind. Failure to do so will result in especially undesirable circumstances. _

Such as being sent to the Crystal Mines to slog out the rest of your life excavating crystals from stubborn bedrock, under pitiless wardens who dished out daily whippings and other harsh punishments at whim until oppressed prisoners either took their own life to escape their bleak existence, or had them taken by the Pawns who patrolled the mining camps.

These, though, were the lucky ones.

More brazen rule-breakers could have their body torn apart by galloping Knights, or turned into a flat mash of flesh and bones by the heavy Rooks who would jump up and down with much delight upon the condemned man's body.

He shuddered at the new torture methods the Queen thought up. Daily, whenever she was not calling a meeting of the Ruling Houses for her amusement, or engaging the Hatter (who had truly gone deliciously mad, judging from the rumours about the "great and honourable" man he was once) to present to her new inventions, contraptions, or improvements to the Royal Flush, her replacement army for the Heart Decks, massacred in a mini-Holocaust when they refused to pledge allegiance to Her Imperial Viciousness after she herself had blasted the King and Queen of Hearts' head into oblivion in a bloody coup.

He remembered that night well.

He remembered the fear in the pupils of the Hearts' eyes when they realized that the increasingly desperate swings and stabs of their electro-halberds had no effect whatsoever on this satanic being who had been spawned into this world with the proficiency of Chessur, the most deadly assassin-for-hire in Wonderland? Momentarily forgetting the searing ache in his cheek, he revelled in every single killing he made in the happiest night of his life, savouring every slash, delighting in every smashed skull.

Then his wounds throbbed, jerking him back to reality painfully. Fortunately, the soothing herbs that made up the paste in the bandages alleviated the sore somewhat. He dreaded for his face, and life, if the Queen ever found out about his source of healing plants. Fortunately his prowess in battle never led the Queen to be inclined to inquire too deeply into his swift recoveries after every slap. Shunting these gloomy thoughts from his mind, he turned to the board, and tried to remember Her Imperial Viciousness's teachings on the hallowed game. "In chess, the pawns go first," he murmured, moving the relevant piece.


	10. Just Desserts

**Disclaimer: Electronic Arts (EA) and American McGee hold all copyrights to American McGee's Alice**

**Chapter Ten: Just Desserts**

"Come closer, my little chick!" grated the Duchess, a saccharine smile plastered across her lips. "Mmm…properly seasoned, you'd make a handsome dish!"

"I'm not edible."

"Not a full meal, certainly, but alight snack, I think!"

"I'll have the Turtle's shell _now,_ you disgusting ogre!"

"Over my dead body!"

"I'll try to accommodate you," I sneered, pulling out my Blade.

"I'll teach you to take that tone with me! Grah!" she yelled, and I was completely caught off guard by a large, stinky, slimy uncooked chicken. Pushing the revolting thing away from me, I threw my Blade at her, but with her head being so high up, the Blade merely ripped her smock slightly. This wasn't good. "Ha! I'm the one who's good at kitchen utensils around here, girl! Take this!" she cackled, dousing me with dirty-black pepper from her sprayer. It was like a serving of spores except this burned _worse. _As I choked and coughed, the Duchess struck me across the head with her club-like spray, knocking me to the other side of the room.

"I didn't want to need to do this, but you have left me no choice," I growled. I began to wind up my Jackbomb, but the Duchess was already striding towards me, chicken in hand, forcing me to hurl it at her without further ado. Unfortunately, it landed halfway down the smock rather than her nauseating face, but it was sufficient. Though not the mighty flamethrower it had been when clearing her garden, the Bomb exploded into flames which started to lick greedily at the stained cloth of the smock, then landed unobtrusively on the floor.

"Darn you! Have a taste of my pepper!" she shrieked, waving the pepper spray wildly in one hand, frantically putting out the fire with the other. I wasn't taking another seasoning from that nasty weapon, and leapt for the fireplace, just avoiding the stinging cloud.

"Observe, learn and react," advised Chessur from somewhere in the deep recesses of my head. Blinking at the unexpected cranial intrusion, I looked around for somewhere to hide in relative safety. Finding only the cluttered mantel piece, I jumped, gripping the chipped ceramic, but nearly lost my grip as another plucked fowl slammed into my feet. Quickly hauling myself up before the Duchess could make a grab for me, I slid behind a wide table clock, concealing myself from the Duchess's piggy eyes.

Rather puzzled by my abrupt disappearance, she settled for rattling about the mantelpiece. "Here, girly, girly, girly…come on, come out, wherever you are!" teased the Duchess, using her vile condiment dispenser to push random ornaments out of the way, releasing wisps of pepper from its pores. Seeing her move closer and closer to my hiding place, my heart beat like a bass drum. I looked about frantically and caught sight of the jerking pepper spray. Tensing myself, I held my breath, and as the spray knocked into the side of the clock, I darted out, hefting the tool out of her less-than-firm-grip, and poured the contents down her nose.

"Hey, what the — "she choked, then sneezed. The sneeze was violent enough to pop her ears and knock her backwards.

"You little bitch, it'll take more than that to down me. I've used pepper all my l —"

Another sneeze. Bigger this time. Blowing a trumpet of steam from each nostril.

"Yea? Looks like that life won't be lasting any longer," I scorned. Picking up the abandoned shaker, I swung it hard at the Duchess, emptying all the pepper at her face. "Huh. This is pathetic. I say, girl, you're rea —"

A third sneeze, this one traumatizing the entire body. Tears streamed down the Duchess's face. Her legs jittered and I swore I heard a shoulder joint pop.

"Arrgh!" she squealed. Tendons tightened, toes pointed and her finger ripped holes in the air.

"Wow," I said. This was a stronger reaction than I'd expected. Looks like someone isn't as experienced as she's claimed. The Duchess sneezed again. And again. I could almost feel the jet of air blowing me down from where I stood. Then she sneezed so hard I heard a crack, and somehow she literally sneezed her head off. The force of the sneeze flung half her skull right at me, and though I dodged in time to escape ending up as a messy splat on the wall, drops of hot blood and assorted grey, squelchy bits spattered my dress and hair. Turning to look at the Duchess, I saw dark red fluid spurting out of the jagged cavity that was once her head, before her body toppled heavily to the ground.

"Help…is someone out there? Help me out…" Like a wraith, tortured whispers issued from the wooden floor.

"Who are you? Where are you?"

"Under…in the basement…pull the lever beside the fireplace…"

Doing as the stranger asked, I heard a crackling noise as a section of the floor opened, revealing stone steps. Hurrying down the spiral staircase, I came upon a youthful woman who had seen better days. Though dressed in atypical flowing, noblewoman's attire, the single torch in the chamber threw into sharp focus her skeletal frame, mostly skin stretched over bones with hardly any muscle mass underneath. Reaching out to touch the alabaster skin, to confirm that she was real and my eyes were not fooling me after days of lack of food, I whispered, "Who are you? Who did this to you?

"You…killed that woman?"

I nodded in the affirmative.

"Thank the gods; I can be free at last. Help me unlock these awful chains, please…the key is in _her _pocket.

Retrieving the surprisingly small key from the cooling corpse of the woman I battled, I lightened a splinter of wood using the torch. She glanced into the darkness and swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing then closed her eyes, clasping and unclasping her clammy hands, seeming to preparing herself mentally for something.

"The chains…are at my feet."

"Where exact — Oh my god!" Coming from me, the merciless slayer of scores of Card Guards, it was truly something horrific. An entire chunk of flesh had been gouged out of where her calf had been, and without any bandage to minimize infection, the wound had begun to fester and rot, a faint decaying odour emanating from behind the thin film of dark congealed blood that had collected in a puddle on the basement floor and the cavity of her wound.

"_I _am the Duchess," murmured the young noble lady morosely. "You are the…well, then who's that repulsive woman I fought with not moments ago?"

"_That _is, was, my Cook. She only ever did put too much pepper in my food from time to time, but of late she turned into a monstrous horror. Eats all my food, locks me in this dungeon to starve, and even overruns my beautiful lawn with weeds just as bloodthirsty as her. She was the one who dug out a chunk of my leg for supper yesterday when the provisions in the pantry ran out…I suppose I don't even need to begin to tell you how much it hurt when she went at me with a carving knife, with that beastly pepper pot constantly releasing acrid plumes all the time…"

"Ouch. I helped you clear your lawn, though. Burnt down every last stalk. Do you need help going up the stairs?" I said as I unlocked the chains, trying to vain to tear my eyes away from the gaping hole in her lower left leg.

She smiled wanly, her pale lips drawing upwards ever so indiscernibly at the corners. "It is nice of you to offer, but you are simply too — oh! I think I can solve that for a while." Bowing her head, she wrinkled her forehead, making her face look gaunter than ever, and a small pastry materialized in her hand.

"Here, have some cake. It should restore you to your original size for some hours, I think."

Popping the cake into my mouth, I felt a warm sensation flowing slowly from my mouth to my extremities, seeming to stretch them up and outwards. Now just as tall as the Duchess, who didn't seem that older than me even in her starved state, I hauled her up, avoiding the injured leg as I went, and ascended the stairs slowly. "Thank you so much…I haven't eaten in weeks, and what with the blood lost from my leg…you wouldn't happen to have any Mana Crystals, would you?" "As a matter of fact, I do," I asserted.

"How wonderful…but you don't seem to be from around these parts, or even like a Wonderlander at all. How do you even know _what _Mana Crystals are?"

"…It's a long story."


	11. Airy Hospitality

**Disclaimer: EA holds all copyrights to American McGee's Alice**

**Chapter Eleven: Airy Hospitality **

"Are you sure you won't stay for some tea? I'm not sure I'd cook as well as my erstwhile Cook, but I know my drinks are one of the best in the land," trilled the Duchess as she flitted from her tea rack to tea set constantly.

Seated at an oak table inn new, much less dirty clothes, I marvelled at the magical powers of Arcane magic. Having scattered the Crystals upon the wound, it dissolved the dried blood rapidly, melting the thin layer, and a river of magical parks began flowing thickly over the cavity, winking and luminescing as they seeped into the area around the wound and begun fixing the injury. I saw with my own eyes her calf filling out with muscle and tendon, new skin knitting its way over what had once been exposed flesh, completing a healing process that would have taken days even with proper care, in a few minutes.

Now as sprightly as the young woman she was the Duchess sauntered into the dining room, supporting a silver tray of exquisite tea-things. Setting the porcelain teapots one by one onto the mats she had placed delicately upon the table, she continued, "I have lavender, Earl Grey, green, oolong, peppermint, dandelion, sage…"

"Thank you so much, Duchess, but I really must be going. I just came here to retrieve the Mock Turtle's shell, and I haven't even gotten around apologizing for the chaos I've created in your living room."

"Oh, don't dwell. A noble woman such as I _does _hire servants for a reason. Bill? Are you there? It's all right; this courageous girl has disposed of the cook. You can come out of hiding now," she called.

The door creaked open on its shaky hinges (Well, I _did _hit it hard) and in shuffled the lizard. Looking from the Cook's body to the Duchess and back again, his already bulging eyes nearly sprang out of their sockets. Not too nice a sight. "Oit was…the Cook all the toime? Oh dayuh', oh dayuh' she hasn't harmed you has she Oi am truly sorry Oi couldn't stop her in toime to ensure yer safety whose as yah know Oi see above all — "

"Oh, drop the devoted servant act. I know quite well the stories you have told about me in my absence. Did you _really _think I could bear letting myself grow _that _fat? My reputation in Wonderland, or at least what is left of the sane Wonderland, is _quite _tarnished. And, while I'm answering your questions, she did cut out quite a large chunk of my leg, but I assure you, I'm quite fine now, as you can see," rebuked the Duchess, cutting across Bill's meaningless babbling, smiling thinly at his appalled expression which, I must say, really didn't look good on his reptilian face. "Clean up this mess, will you? I really can't stand the sight of her puffy…half face any longer."

"Yes, maiam, on oit, maiam, Oi get da leeches here on the double. Oh, and miss," he jabbered, nodding towards me. "I've brought the Mock Turtle to see you."

"Oh! I hear the Cook has troubled him terribly lately. It was such a shock when I saw her hauling his shell about like an overlarge pot. Do show him in," the Duchess exclaimed, moving to retrieve the shell from the kitchen.

"Great Heart! So the nasty woman who tried to catch me for eating was a mere Cook! I was so mistaken — of course, such a pretty woman such as you wouldn't treat me that way, I dare say."

"Why, thank you, Mock Turtle, that's so sweet of you. Here's your shell," the Duchess simpered.

Seeing my chance, I turned to the Turtle. "Well, I've kept my end of the bargain. I hope you haven't forgotten _your _promise."

"Oh, alright. But…you will need to shrink a few sizes before I can take you."

"Surely you aren't thinking of going _now_?" interjected the Duchess. Walking over to the wispy thin curtain, she parted them slightly, revealing an enchanting dark violet velvet of a night sky, dotted with twinkling stars like diamonds encrusted in a heavenly gown.

"Wow…Wonderland's night sky is so…captivating!" I exulted. "Yes, and as you can clearly see, it is _very _late, and there isn't much light by which you can find your way at this hour. I wouldn't like the thought of you running into an ambush of Ant Soldiers especially after you've just saved my life…they've been _really _aggressive ever since the Red Queen stormed her way to Wonderland's throne. In any case, you would only shrink back to an acceptable size in the morning, so why not stay at my establishment for the night? It's the best way I can thank you."

I sighed. "All right then, if you insist." To tell the truth, though, after days of running about in circles pursuing the Rabbit, there wasn't a thing I looked forward to more than a comfortable bad and/or a hearty meal. A little fighting to the death _does _age a girl. I flopped down on the pink, flowery sheets, which happened to be my least favourite colour, but I was just too tired to care.

* * *

"_Are you kidding me?_"

"What? Why would I kid you?"

"I don't know, maybe because there's something _very _wrong about using a person's farts as breathing bubbles!"

At this, the Mock Turtle, shell and all, choked up and turned an angry shade of mauve. "They are _NOT _farts!"

The morning brought good news and bad news. Firstly, the Mock Turtle had returned rather than made a quick getaway while sleep did wonders for my body. Secondly, McGill might be a lousy Cockney bodyguard, but he sure whips up a mean breakfast. And just as I was scarfing down servings of delectable eggs and tasty bacon, the Mock Turtle chose the fine moment that I would have to follow his…farts in place of, say, the more usual breathing tank that sane people used while deep-sea-diving (But then, since I _am _insane…no, I am _not _going there).

As though that wasn't stomach churning enough, he instructed, and I quote: "Follow them closely. Snuggle up to them. Stick close with me and you might make it through the Vale's bottom feeders" I almost puked all over my new outfit.

"I repeat: they are _not _farts. They are merely air bubbles trapped under my shell, which I occasionally use in times of emergency. It is _your _privilege that you are able to make use of my spare tank!" the Turtle yelled.

There was a lot of that going on this morning.

"I don't care! It's still coming out of the same end of your body!"

"Good grief, you didn't bat an eyelid when you forced the Cook to sneeze her head off, and now you get your knickers in a twist about underwater breathing? If not for my shell I wouldn't have given a rat's fart about you!"

"Stop mentioning that word!"

"OK, aright, I suggest everybody calm down and take a deep breath of the fresh air this morning…"

It seemed that the …leeches had done a good job of cleaning up. The living room was almost unrecognizable. Every surface now shone: copper ornaments had been burnished to a rosy glow, the wooden table top gleamed, the goblets and plates already laid for breakfast glinted in the morning sunlight. "Now, Turtle, _is _there no pleasant alternative? Even of what you say is true, it would be a pity to soak the dress I just knitted for her."

"Well…perhaps she could just hang on my shell…but you'll have to hold on tight!"

"Anything's better than swimming at your rear!"

"In that case, I wish you good luck finding the Rabbit!" exclaimed the Duchess cheerfully as she bade me and the Turtle good bye.

Riding on a turtle, no matter how obnoxious, was an interesting experience. Then again, I hadn't ridden on anything bestial in a long time. His shell was completely smooth but had the texture of leather, which, though not especially comfortable to lie upon, was quite suitable to sit upon for the duration of the ride. I suppose I should count myself fortunate that turtle was an experienced swimmer, and the ride was exceedingly smooth, the deceptively slow sweeping movements of his flippers as they sliced through the tepid water was nearly therapeutic. "Err, girl, if you're sleeping up there I'm telling you to wake up, like, right now. Keep your eyes peeled. We're entering Snark territory."

"I _have _a name, Alice, thank you very much. Don't you mean Shark?"

"Oh, no. Snarks are much smaller, thank goodness, but their teeth are just as sharp, and for benign water-dwellers such as I, just as an — There's one!"

With barely a ripple on the water surface, a blue fish as long as my arm sprang up from the water, leaping towards me, opening its tiny maw to reveal rows upon rows of numerous sharp teeth. Acting completely on instinct, I threw my Blade at it, and the two halves of the piscine carnivore dropped back into the river, staining the water a deep red.

"Great. _Now _we're in real trouble."

"Excuse me? I just removed that Snark faster than you could eat one!" "Maybe there was this _little _other thing they shared with Sharks that I forgot to tell you…" Without missing a beat, it seemed, Snarks were swarming the bloody patch in the river. Stripping their fallen kin of all available flash in no time, they locked onto the next nearest food source: us

My life just gets better and better.

* * *

He walked along the cobbled pathways of Wonderland in silence, a troop of his faithful Crystal Cyborgs following equally quietly, save the faint whirring of the mechanisms fused with their biological bodies.

Devoting a mere fraction of his boundless thinking capacity to carry out the complex calculations needed to further improve the process of melding flesh and electronics, to create a new generation of cyborg soldiers that could have some rudimentary levels of emotion and human intelligence to allow them to adapt to changing circumstances, think on their feet and make snap decisions, he stroked his beardless chin as he dwelled upon one of the Crystal Eyes he had placed in the Skool on one of his visits to that pitiable place.

Replays of the recordings it had taken showed a teenage girl who, if not for the hard-set of her jaw, the pitiless gaze of her eyes and the wicked-looking Vorpal Blade she wielded as she slew dozens of Card Guards, would have been a rather charming lady.

He remembered the unexplainable shock that had pulsed through him when he first saw the recording, which had drove him to want to view the path of devastation she had wreaked through the Library in slow motion, to instruct the Eye to focus on her face close-up, to bring her every feature under the close scrutiny of 10x magnification. He was almost mortified by his unknown attraction to this female fatale.

Was it the efficient, heartless way with which she dispatched the Card Guards, an efficiency that would have been the envy of his Crystal Cyborgs if they had the appropriate feelings?

Was it the reckless bravery she displayed as she went hand-to-hand, or in the Boojums' cases, hand-to-mouth with her adversaries without question?

Or was it her alluring emerald-green eyes that had attracted him and tugged at his heartstrings ever since he had seen them?

He stopped in his tracks as, inexplicable as it sounded, the last reason seemed closest to the mark. But it was impossible. He had been incapable of feeling strong feelings of any sort ever since…ever since…Oh, this was annoying. Here was a puzzling problem, a problem that had puzzled even the second greatest brain in Wonderland! Did she have a name? He closed his eyes and, using his eidetic memory, recalled every single conversation mouthed by her and her companion, a feline like skeletal abomination who seemed to share her penchant for violent killing. Very likely he was the legendary Chessur. Yes, there it was: "I say, Alice,…" He breathed in sharply. Alice?

_A young face, framed by shoulder-length dark brown curls looked up at him,__ vaguely__ fearful but mostly confused. "Well, well, well, now here's a pretty face. Mind telling me why you around these parts of Wonderland?" _

"_Chessur said you were mad, and he was too. But…I _don't _want to be among mad people!" _

"_Oh, you can't help that. We're all mad here!" _

_He chuckled, seeing the horrified expression on his face. _

"_Don't worry, dear, we wouldn't dream of hurting a hair on your head. By the way, how is a raven like a writing desk?" _

"_Er…I _really _don't know. Hi — " _

"_Ah! Good answer! Incorrect, but good." _

Arrgh! Where had _that _come from? He struck himself with the butt of his palm to clear the errant thought.

"Crystal Cyborgs!"

"Sir!"

"Move back to your garrisons. I will need to take a…lone walk in the forest."

"Yes, Mr. Hightopp." The lead Crystal Cyborg trooped off, followed by the rest. Watching them leave, he continued on the long, rough path to the out skirts.


	12. McTwisp

Disclaimer: Electronic Arts (EA) and American McGee hold all copyrights to American McGee's Alice

**Chapter Twelve: McTwisp**

"Here we are. Don't let it be said that we reptilians are an ungrateful bunch. Adieu!" Waving one flipper in goodbye, the Mock Turtle somersaulted back into the tears.

Fresh from my ride, I paced about hesitantly in the vaguely different environs. Water continued to bubble serenely in nearby pools, but all around me, water vapour hung so heavily in the air beads were collecting in my hair. Water lilies and assorted water plants thrived in the pools, and imposing blades of grass towered over me.

Clearly, someone has been neglecting his lawn for some time.

A flash of white fur, and Rabbit bounded off a nearby fallen tree trunk. "Hey! You stop right there!" I shouted as I ran after him on the dry, leaf strewn ground. Then there was the crisp pitter-patter of feet upon leaf litter, and two dirty yellow projectiles whizzed past in front of my face. Ducking to avoid further possible head shots, I conjured a long rope lasso and swung it expertly at the two firing Soldiers. Feeling it catch, I tightened the noose ad pulled hard, smashing the two arthropods together, throwing them to the ground until I heard exoskeleton crack.

Leaving their twitching carcasses behind, I continued chasing Rabbit, Jackbomb in hand, which, coincidentally, I had used to put a major dent in the aquatic ecosystem.

I wasn't going to lose sleep over the myriad of fishy remains, though.

On the other hand, this Rabbit was being infuriating. What was the big idea behind making me chase him for a few days straight? Sprinting about a thicket in an attempt to keep up, I rounded a corner and found myself overlooking a deep cliff, with mist so thick shrouding its rocky faces I couldn't even see the bottom.

Looks like this wasn't your ordinary forest after all.

"Hanging vines are like stepladders — for those who know how to use them."

"Cryptic advice is like trash for those who don't understand it…Oh!" I cried. For there was a long green vine hanging rather conveniently from a branch overhead. Jumping up to grab hold of it, I pitched forwards as hard as I could, and saw the Rabbit, standing on the other side, nose twitching, but nevertheless waiting for me _patiently._ I was so taken aback by this change of behaviour I almost forgot to let go.

"You've taken your sweet time. Just look at the hour! We're very, very late indeed."

"You're the one who didn't wait for me! Made me scurry all over Wonderland to catch up, too. I have my reasons…"

"Forget it. Reasons are quite useless around here. But you need to go see the Caterpillar."

"I remember him. Deplorable smart-alec. Thinner skin than anyone I've known in while. _Thoroughly _disagreeable smell…_Why _do I need him?"

"Because there's no one wiser than the Caterpillar, so that means he's the only one who can make head or tails of this…unfavourable situation the Red Queen's put us all in Anyway, we mustn't waste any more time on meaningless chit-chat. The road to the Valley of Mushrooms where's he's sought refuge is long and treacherous, and we have so little time left to do so many things. Try and keep up, and keep an eye out for those murderous insects!" Saying so, he bounded off and I, not wanting to lose him _again_, followed close behind.

As we entered a litter-free clearing, however, a plus-sized Ant burst out of the grass, and the midday sunlight that flashed off the array of medals upon his uniform nearly blinded us. At his command, a squad of Ant soldiers jumped out all armed with bayonet-tipped rifles, ready to kill.

"Bloody ambushing insects…don't worry Alice, I'll take care of them," grumbled Rabbit. Turning one of the numerous knobs dotting the circumference of his large watch, a clear field expanded from the clock face, enveloping the entire clearing. As if caught in permafrost, every single Ant stood petrified, fierce expression still on their faces and rifles still halfway raised to stab. Then a hard paw clocked me on the back of the head.

"Ow! What the hell!"

"Quit staring! I may have frozen them in time, but it ain't going to last long. Now beat it _before _they snap back to attention!"

"Sir, yes sir," I replied in mock salute, before pursuing him through the undergrowth.

* * *

It was a tiring trek, and I had to pause several time under the Rabbit's disapproving, nervous eye just to regain the energy to press on. I reckoned myself to be quite a fit girl, but this forest sure put me to the test.

From climbing vines to swing from tree to tree like a primate, to hopping off Bounce Mushrooms ("What are these iridescent Mushrooms, Rabbit? I had a run-in with their kind before…left a really bad taste in my mouth." "Aye, don't worry! They're just Bounce Mushrooms. They won't bite, just make you jump _real_ high. Not that I like using them myself. Makes me feel inferior. Do stop dawdling!) and fighting off the random battalion of angry Ants or Acorn Bomb-dropping Ladybirds, I could feel every single muscle I had ever used being taxed to the maximum, including a few others I hadn't known existed.

The day seemed like an eternity of sore and exhaustion, and I breathed a sigh of relief when the sun finally set.

"Shoot. We were _this _close to the — "

"Huh? How close?"

"Don't try to be funny with me. As I was saying, another couple of miles and we'd have reached the Caterpillar's lair. If not for the lack of visibility at night I'd be dragging you kicking and screaming to him whether you like it or not." The Rabbit prodded moodily at the pile of sticks, burning merrily in the fire he had started. "See," he continued, "if it weren't for the fact that I had to constantly wait for you to, oh, _catch your breath,_ or — "

"Hey," I shot back, jabbing my Blade within mere inches of his leather vest. "You may think I'm some Champion who's going to restore peace to this wretched land or something. Fine. But I'm telling you now that I'm no superhuman. And like humans, I _need _my rest occasionally."

We glowered at each other for some time, and I can tell you that staring into those red eyes over flickering flames is just…weird.

Until a growling sound cut across the rather silent night.

"And some food. Have you got anything edible? Seeing as eating giant insects isn't really much of an option," I sighed. Harrumphing, he threw a packet of dried meat into my hands, chewing on a beef jerky himself. After the rather pathetic meal, we stretched out, attempting to make ourselves as comfortable as possible on the leaf litter. Trying not to think about what would happen if a millipede or, God forbid, a Centipede happened to crawl past in the night, I snuffed out the flickering flames. "Night," the Rabbit mumbled.

"Night."

* * *

"Wake up, Alice!" Immediately, my eyes snapped open, and I bolted upright, turning wildly, grabbing my Blade, imagining that I was eight years old again, was back in the house, and the hurried whisper was that of my parents, warning me, helping me escape the blaze that had consumed my family's lives. "No! Mom and Dad, Edith and Lorina, I won't leave you this time. We will escape this together or perish as one. I've missed you so much…" I wailed, and clutched at thin air.

"Alice! You can't let that affect you so. Get a grip on yourself!"

I blinked, and instead of the chaotic conflagration, I saw the Rabbit in his ridiculously prim shirt, vest and black bowler hat, seizing me by the shoulders and shaking me hard. I saw my half-crazed expression in his soulful pupils.

Breathing hard, I removed his paws, and looked away, troubled. "I'm…sorry. I have control of myself now." "I know that fire took away your parents. I know that it drove you mad for ten long years. But you have to hold yourself together. All of Wonderland's hopes hangs on you." He looked at me earnestly.

"Easy for you to say. You weren't the one who's lost parents."

"I'm…sorry. I cannot claim that I understand your pain, but I express my true sorrow for your loss. It is the most I can do."

"Thank you," I whispered evenly.

Nodding imperceptibly, he added, "Very well. Let us move on to the present. I…woke you because it's…too quiet. I don't like it. We'll have to sacrifice stealth for speed. Now follow me. The Caterpillar's lair is just around the corner." With that, he bounded off, sneaking one last concerned glance at me.

I couldn't help it. I knelt to the ground in grief. I had managed not to think about my family for the longest time ever, though admittedly the task had been made much simpler without Dr. Wilson's daily naggings, the hateful mocking by the asylum orderlies and he nurses' furtive whisperings. I thought I had been able to get over their deaths at long last, in this familiar world that had been my land of fantasy for years before the incident. Evidently, I had simply blinded myself with the sights and sounds of wonderland. I would never live without the guilt of their deaths hanging over me like an anvil.

Then the ground rocked.


	13. The Movers and Shakers

**Disclaimer: Electronic Arts (EA) and American McGee hold all copyrights to American McGee's Alice**

**Chapter Thirteen: The Movers and Shakers**

Nivens McTwisp felt the ground shaking. An earthquake? Impossible. There hadn't been one in Wonderland for…well, as long as it had existed, entirely crafted in _her _mind. Unless the Queen's diabolical madness had seeped into the earth itself…?

* * *

The Hatter stomped on the ground in anger. "Drat! Stupid stupid stupid! One girl. Just one girl and she's gotten me so darn confused!" Then he saw a strange white creature (termite? Rabbit? Who cared?) that seemed to be staring up at him. Utterly unacceptable. Raising his buckled shoe, he trod down hard on it, hearing it squelch satisfyingly, then twisted his ankle left and right on the mashed remains for good measure before stalking off.

* * *

The tremors culminated in an almighty stomp before ceasing altogether. Worried, I ran forward. "Rabbit? Rabbit?" The sight before me stopped me in my tracks. My guide had been completely pulverized, reduced to nothing more than shattered bones, a patty of bloodstained pulp, and his once impeccable clothes were creased beyond any standard their neat owner would have stood for. I picked up his utterly crushed bowler hat and sank to the ground, putting my hands to cover my face as wracking sobs shook my body. "Everyone I love dies violently. Unnaturally. I'm cursed! Why go on? I'll just hurt others…"

"No time for self-pity now, Alice," intoned Chessur, parting my hands and wiping the tear oozing from the corners of my eyes in what he probably thought was a comforting manner. "Evade these savage soldiers and find Caterpillar!"

Biting back retorts and tears, I pushed myself up, supported by the Splinter Staff. "We…should give him a proper burial."

"Mmm…you're quite right. Nivens loved the forest…when it hadn't been colonized by trigger-happy ant Soldiers and vicious Mushrooms. I suppose it's best for him to return some to its roots upon his death. Shall I?"

Extending his front claws, he pulled clods of earth up in a frenzy, taking mere minutes to dig a pit that would have taken me and hour at least, without the proper tools.

Placing the remains in the makeshift hole, he looked and my questioningly, but, overwhelmed with sadness, I opened my mouth and could find no pithy words to say. In silence, we replaced the soil over Nivens. I blinked and a tear, unbridled, fell to the earth. Then the damp soil sparkled, and from the exact spot where the tear had landed, a daisy sprouted in full bloom.

"I suppose that's that. Now buck up! I'll lead the way." Looking backwards at the clean white daisy, I told myself to be strong, and hurried toward where Chessur's receding figure had gone.

I hadn't taken more than a few steps when the ground suddenly erupted upwards, and two Ant Lions emerged from the dust, clacking their serrated mandibles at me. I stabbed my Blade and thrust my Staff at each Lion, but they moved faster than I expected, and caught the weapons in their curved biting appendages. Thinking fast, I let go of both Blade and Staff, palming two steel edges in my hands. As the Ant Lions staggered with the unexpected deadweight, I rammed the equally lethal conjures through their heads. Retrieving my tools, I continued on, passing the stiffening Lions.

Seeing Chessur leap down a deep cavity in the ground, I followed suit — and looked around me in wonder. The cavity opened to a cavern of colossal proportions. Reminding me of the mine in the Village of the Damned, natural stone bridges straddled between rock faces that glittered like enthusiastic fireflies in what dim light penetrated the cave from relatively small openings to the surface. I rested my hand on one rock wall, and saw my face reflected a million times in its cool green surface.

"What is this place? It's so beautiful!"

Chessur winced noticeably at my words. "_Don't _say that, please. This is an abandoned Crystal Mine…or at least, one that was never occupied in the first place."

"A Crystal Mine?"

"Exactly. Do you remember the poor overworked miners in the Village? Thousands of innocent Wonderlanders have been forced to labour at these awful places, as punishment for not complying with one or another of the one thousand, seven hundred and sixty-four rules that the Red Queen has drawn up."

"A thousand, seven hundred and —" I nearly choked out.

"Sixty-four. At last count. Anyway, _this _mine isn't full of despondent miners simply because the Queen deemed it too inefficient to have to excavate a mine so far from the capital city. Now then. We'll be going through a couple of these before we reach the Wise One's lair, so follow me, and do watch your step. One slip means you'll either crush your skull or dissolve to nothing in the shimmering acid pools down below which, trust me, is not a nice way to go." He padded quickly over a series of passageways, crossing and turning after a few high pillars rising from the acid, navigating the complex network in a trice. I was about to step off the second stone pillar when all of a sudden, the entire cavern quaked and I looked on is dismay as entire sections of the stone bridge fell away, leaving nothing between me and Chessur except much hot air.

"Don't worry, Alice! That fallen bridge shouldn't stop you! Just use anything that floats!"

I looked around, and all I could see were thermal vents spouting condensed steam. "Are you mad? These columns of air can't support me!"

"When in doubt, _always _go with the flow," he smiled.

Trusting Chessur, I jumped forward, and as I closed my eyes hoping I wouldn't fall, I felt the warm air currents catch me, billowing out my dress, Bobbing up and down, I beat my hands back and forth like wings and landed safely on the ledge beside my feline guide. "Well done. Let's move out!" Jumping atop the jutting sections of hard packed soil, we exited the mesmerizing mines — into the clutches of four Ant Soldiers. Chittering excitedly at the sight of the unexpected victims, they swung their rifles, firing, and we hissed as the caustic projectiles caught us on the arms. Our retaliation was as swift as it was brutal.

"We must hurry. The soldiers are closing in on us by the minutes, as that attack quite obviously displayed, warned Chessur, after wrapping our wounds in conjured bandages. He dashed ahead into another pit.

The air was then thick with loud humming.

Chessur's mangy head immediately popped up to look.

Along a branch of a nearby tree, numerous Ladybugs flanked a mind-blowingly large specimen of their kind, who was holding under it an equally enormous marble. And the convoy was headed straight for me.

"Not good."

"Indeed, replied Chessur, dragging me down the mines. "Haste makes waste, so I rarely hurry. But if a ferret was about to dart up my dress, I'd run."

"Great, now if only the gigantic steam roller coming up just behind me was the size of a similarly small creature." Then the tunnel rocked hard, and we turned simultaneously to see the gigantic marble landing in the cavern entrance.

"RUN!"

I didn't need to be told twice. We bolted down the narrow earthen passageways, with the marble shaking us all the while as it bounced off the ceiling and floor. We vaulted off Bounce Mushrooms, then sped through another cavern which seemed to be held up by a rib-like structure yet the marble continued its relentless lurching.

"Our situation's not improving, Chessur!"

"Just shut up and keep running!"

The sudden change in surroundings as we emerged from the rib-cage, from subterranean to icy, didn't even register on me. Maybe to some extent, but I was too busy caring about self-preservation to notice.

"Alice! Here's our chance. This is thin ice, so it's currently just able to hold our weight, but when the marble comes along it will crack and we will fall to our deaths if we remain on it. Fortunately there's permafrost on the other end, so on my signal, get ready to jump, OK?"

I only had sufficient breath to nod once sharply.

"One…Two…Three…JUMP!"Slamming both feet into the ice, I saw fine spider-web cracks spread out from the point of impact. As we hung mid-air, suddenly it was like the whole world was shattering as the marble bounced and fractured the sheet of thin ice from end-to-end.

* * *

Wonderland, once a world of joy, beauty and children prancing down the streets (Children. _Children!_ Noisy, dislikeable brats. How crazy things were in the past) was now fraught with unrest, fear, and above all, order.

Fear was a useful thing.

Fear of being sent to the Crystal Mines for as long as forever.

Fear of being executed in the streets by the merciless patrolling chess pieces.

Fear of the insidious reach of the Queen.

Revolutions and rebellions had broken out in the early days of her rule, but with unlimited crystals behind her for bribery and propaganda, coupled with the callousness of the chess pieces, the mindlessly obedient Royal Flush, and of course The Cat himself, they were either bought out or quashed violently.

Now, standing beside the Queen in the conference room, he saw the various Heads of administration: Red Knight, Minister for Peace, Lady of Spades, Minster of Truth, Red Bishop, Minister of Inner Calm, and so on. He closed his eyes in contempt. Yes, these were the famous faces in society, considering how largely they loomed in the public eye or crystal vision. But every single one of them, as he, the Queen's personal aide, should know, had little or no personality of their own; all simple marionettes dancing to the wire pulled by a master hand — the Queen's.

"Ministers, report."

"All calm on the internal front. Rebellions or uprisings of any sort have not surfaced ever since we crushed the assault on the Rook's Hold."

"And…the impending invasion of the Upper Air?"

"Crack troops have been whipped into shape, and are undergoing intensive training to adapt to the conditions of the Upper Air as we speak. Of course, there still remains the issue of how we may — "

"Yes, milady, research on the trans-dimensional portal is _nearly _complete, but we require more funding for further test — "

"Monsieur Rook, we understand that your department engages in activities of a rather…expensive nature, but the Ministry of Plenty is truly not prepared to entertain any more extravagant requests simply because your so-called research is taking weeks, then months and years to reach some sort of fruition. The Queen has many other directives that require that funding much more urgently, like the construction costs of the new skyscrapers "Checkmate" that will be completed later this month, the managing of Red Casino in Caucus Sector, und so weiter. I hope the Church has submitted their daily allocation, as is — "

"We have, Lady of Diamonds, and I hope you will not badger us so in the future. Our establishments are the most widely spread, with branches all over Wonderland, from Eaglet Sector to her in its...capital itself, Royal Sector. As such, it is highly respected and well-received by many Wonderlanders who flock –"

"Silence," whispered the Queen. The chatter stopped as though every Minister had been struck dumb.

"Knight, maintain status quo. Improvements would be highly desired but not over-necessary. Lady of Diamonds, grant Rook the funding he needs this last time. Little or no further progress will be reported by my aide. This is his responsibility alone and he will have to answer to me. Lady of Spades, prepare the stirring speech you will read to the masses over live crystal feed on the morrow. Before the conclusion of this meeting, submit to me your weekly report by the Ministry of Candour, Lady of Clubs. Thank you. Dismissed."

At her blink, holograms of the conference table with all its occupants fizzled and faded away. The Cat finally opened his eyes and grinned his trademark grin. Ever since leading the assault on Wonderland's capital city, the Queen never came into the limelight. Hardly moving from her palace, or even the Throne Room, she simply needed to sit and pull strings — yes, pull strings — and things happened, far away.


	14. Icy Reception

**Disclaimer: Electronic Arts (EA) and American McGee hold all copyrights to American McGee's Alice**

**Chapter Fourteen: Icy Reception**

"Hanging there with my heart in my mouth wasn't fun."

"Well, at least we're all still in one piece."

"Yea, so that's great and everything, but where_ is _this place? Brr...Cold."

"It's...an ice cavern of some sort. Never been in these parts before the late Nivens passed that route to me. However...woah, this ice is slippery...but then this must be it! The Ice Cave!" murmured Chessur, more to himself than me, who didn't understand what in the world he was talking about anyway. "And if that _is _the case...dear Heart! There it is!"

Under my astonished glance, he slid along the entire length of the chilly corridor, pointing triumphantly at a large iceberg in the centre of the cave.

"Er, sorry to derail your train of thought, but there's one person out of the two here who's seriously out of the loop. There _what _is?"

"It's the fabled Ice Wand! Right there, just locked in the iceberg! Just crack the ice, grab it and it's yours!"

I peered uncertainly at the deep drop into the frigid chasm. "Mmmhmm...not interested in dying a droppy, messy death just to grab at myths."

"Oh, don't fret, it isn't all that hard. See that dent in the iceberg? Gives a nice foothold. All you have to do is to use that handy Staff of yours to jump from here to there!"

"You sound much too optimistic. And I don't like it." Pressing my shoes hard to the ground to increase friction as much as possible, I struck the Staff on the ice rather lightly, and bounded easily to the depression atop the Ice Wand. Balancing my Blade directly above the Wand, I hammered down on it with my Staff once, and then twice, until with a deafening snap, the iceberg split down the middle, yielding the legendary Ice Wand to my grasp.

Hefting it, I could see what all the fuss was about. I felt waves of cold rippling menacingly from the small shard of ice set at the tip of its golden shaft. Chessur traced the runes engraved on the Wand reverently. "_Superior Icis Poudero. _Ah...such power. You see, withering cold incapacitates and enemy more completely than deep wounds. Of course, winter does not last _forever._"

"It does seem a rather nice toy. So how do I use it?"

He looked nonplussed by my question. "I...guess you just point it at something and...will it to freeze the target. Hey, I can't know everything," he protested when I raised my eyebrows at his unconvincing explanation. "Pretend you're an orphan — oh! That was rude, you _are."_ I gave him the _look _even as I felt a wrenching sensation within my chest. "Yeessh...so, erm, I'd say the best way to get out of this detour is by that led —"

An ominous thudding sound reverberated through the cavern.

"Oh crap." I said. "I couldn't have put it better. Let's get outta here!" Holding my hand so tight I thought it would break, he dug his claws deep into the ice, and leapt for a rather faraway ledge.

"We're not going to make it!"

"You need to be more trusting of _my _abilities."

Landing imperceptibly on the ledge, I only had time to catch my breath before we continued rushing down the much warmer earthen mine — until in ended in a cliff.

"Now what are we gonna do?"

"Yes! Look! Thermal vents. The air currents _definitely _can't take the marble's mass. Let's go!"

* * *

As it turned out, it wasn't that hard to find the Caterpillar at all — once you were _really _close. I could smell the heavy smoke he chugged at every day, every single hour, before we passed through a fake rock wall that only gave way after Chessur whispered urgently at it. Inside, upon a strangely reticent Mushroom, sat the Blue Caterpillar, puffing nonchalantly on his horrid hookah.

"Who...Are...You?"

"Don't play games with me, Caterpillar. I'm already in enough of a bad mood."

"Oh well. I hoped you'd be tricked for some time, but then again...Alice, you've returned."

"But Rabbit never told me why...and now he's gone..."

"Why? Wonderland's severely damaged. You have to set things right, that's why."

"I barely recognise this terrible place...what is it to me?"

"It's home...or, well, it could be. Having lost what you loved, you nearly wiped us out. You've started to rebuild. Your task, however, and your pain, are not over."

"Why must I suffer?"

"Because your mind and heart are befouled by self-deception. Even your fantasies have fragmented into tortured versions of themselves. You are wracked with guilt because you survived and you dread the prospect of a life alone."

"What do you think I must do?"

"Destroy the Red Queen. Wonderland, and your entire world, can become whole again. I need to rest now. You need to regain your human size. Grow up, Alice. Embrace the truth. Travel to the Fungiferous Forest and nibble from the Toad stool of Life. Take great care. The Devious Dodo Bird jealously guards it, and rules over what you require."

Taking a deep pull, he then exhaled a long stream of blue smoke at my face.

"OK, Caterpillar, that is rude to..." I said immediately feeling very woozy, before falling unconscious.

* * *

"Time to wake up, Alice."

"Aah...head hurts."

Shaking off the after effects of the narcotic smoke, I found myself under the shade of enormous toadstool. With two dormant meat eating mushrooms just outside the toadstool's perimeter. As I peered into the distance, it turned out that these were just two of the similarly dangerous many.

"Chessur?"

"At your non-paying service."

"Non-paying?" I asked, raising my eyebrows at the skeletal visage.

"Well, yes, because I was paid once, and very highly, because the prices I charged were unbelievably exorbitant. But...another life, another story. What is it this time?"

"This is the ...Fungiferous Forest?" Cocking his head at me, he imply motioned at the self evident landscape by way of explanation.

"OK, yea, stupid question. But my plan to save wonderland mostly involved not getting killed by mushrooms."

"Caterpillar should have given you something to survive the forest ...unless he's fully confident you can pass through the entire stretch of fungi before getting, ahem, spared to death." Reaching deep into my pockets, I could find nothing more helpful than a heart-shaped looking glass which reflected my horrendous appearance, but that wasn't the point. Sighing at my rather dishevelled image, I noticed spiral rune in the frame glowing red, then spinning like a Catherine wheel. It was hypnotizing

"Wow," I said, "That's really..."

Then a pulsing beam of crimson magic blasted from the centre of the runt, enveloping me in a cocoon of light. It faded, and I was completely invisible.

"Wow," I said again, regarding my wholly transparent arm. "That's a really neat trick."

"More than you think. It's Absolem's own signature magic, which goes a long way explaining why's he's eluded the Queen's group for so long, even though there is no other who spout's as much anti-... Red Queen advice as much as he does. But you should hurry. That 's only a fraction of his ability, so I wouldn't expect it to last too long."

"What they can't see, they can't hear." I muttered to myself as I set off at a dash through the Fungiferous Forest. And though the alert black eyes of numerous Ant Soldiers constantly scanned between the caps and stalks, it seemed that Absolem's magic worked so perfectly cloaking my path that I could slip right past everyone, even under some of their way ... well, Ants didn't have noses, but I'll settle for "heads". Lowering myself under a tree-trunk, I emerged on the other side safe from the Mushrooms, but into a field crawling with Ants. The Invisibility Charm chose this moment to wear off. The soldiers turned towards the figure that had appeared in their midst slowly, and considered me deliberately, almost lazily." Erm... Hi!" I squealed before diving back under the trunk.

"Oh dear, oh dear, please work," I mumbled in coherently as I wrenched the clock work axle of the Jack-in-the Box. Bayonets began poking under the dry hark to try and force me out, and I flung out the shaking Jack Bomb through an opening between the sharp blades.

"The uninformed must improve their deficit–or die," smirked Chessur. Crouching besides me in our not-much-of-a-hiding place. Clearly, the Ants hadn't . I squeezed my heart as a wave of heat swept over us, and jammed my ears to block off the deafening explosion. Crawling out cautiously, all was left of the insectoid regimen were many charred smoking bodies scattered haphazardly over a lawn of searched grass. Moving forward quickly, I raced into the "Domain of the Dodo," emblazoned clearly upon its entrance. Immediately klaxons sounded and I heard a loud squawk from deep within.

"Form a line, you useless things. If you can't even manage that, bring that annoying girls to me! I'll finish her off myself."

Granted, the personal guards of the Dodo fought bravely, but with Chessur by my side, they stood hardly any chance. Finally, we reached a pathway flanked by burning acetylene torches and grudgingly respectful Ants. Straight ahead, a structure looking eerily like an Easter Island totem's head lowered its jaw ponderously. Then Chessur began coughing hard out of the blue.

"I'm afraid I have to expel a rather ferocious hairball–you're on your own, girl,"

"Wait, what?"

Two Ants then grabbed me firmly by the arms, cutting off my surprise, and tossed me into the gaping totem.


	15. Dodo Song

Disclaimer: Electronic Arts (EA) and American McGee hold all copyrights to American McGee's Alice

**Chapter Fifteen: Dodo Song**

Sliding down a smooth tunnel, I landed in a straw packed enclosure or den, more like, with its vaulted ceiling hanging with metre-long stalactites.

I got up hurriedly, blade at the ready–and an enormous foot ending in three separate six –inch hooks, each filled to a deadly point slammed into the ground mere inches from me.

Looking up, I could just make out two black, beady eyes glaring down. Scuttling out of the way, I realised with a shock that the Dodo Bird was ... fully armoured.

Rearing like a great metal tower, the polished steel shined, smooth plates linked with wires of gold (I wasn't even sure how the avian lord had gotten this claws on those). His helmet enclosed the upper part of his head in a glistening carapace of silver grey with deep eye slits for looking out of, leaving his sharp beak free to snap up any prey.

"Well, well, well, Alice," he squawked, the words sounding like morning sirens in the enclosed arena. "I know who you are and why you are here. But I won't mince words–I'd much rather mince you!" His beak swung down, and would have skewered my midsection had I not moved backwards swiftly.

Seeing as my Blade and the shards from my Staff would hardly make a scratch on his iron clad body, I pinned my hopes on the Ice Wand. Stomping forward, he tried to corner me off, raising his foot as if to tread me hard, revealing the close-fitting sark of chain-mail protecting his lower body.

Just as I thought I was quite doomed, I had a flash of inspiration: though the mail was excellent protection against slicing or clubbing weapons, surely the glacial magic of the wand would penetrate the gaps in the armour. Knowledge wrapping me like a layer of defence, I feinted right, and as the Dodo raised the relevant foot I tumbled under it and raised the wand at his lightly-coloured underside.

Immediately, stream of chilling air flowed from the glowing wand upwards, freezing the metal links to skin. The choking gasp from the voracious bird was confirmation enough that my plan was working. As I readied to freeze another section of his under body, one foot drew back and kicked me hard, slamming me to the far side of the cavern and knocking the Ice Wand from my reach.

I wasn't sure if birds were capable of grinning, but this one had a wicked smile stretching from beak to beak as it raised its flight less wings and flapped them hard at me. I had barely time to react before numerous steel-tipped feathers crashed into the wall behind me, embedding deep in the rock.

Forcing myself out of the range of his peppering arrows, I tried freezing his exposed feet to the ground. Screeching in rage and fear at the frosty attack, he simply ripped his ice bound feet off the ground, cracking the ice with sheer force alone. I took the chance to blast another icy jet at his chain mail, which caused the aggressive fowl to hoot in protest, backing off quickly.

Using our distance to his advantage, his rock-hard beak jerked forward once again, gouging the cavern floor deeply as I jumped out of its reach. Still, the tremors emanating from the point of impact nearly shock my tired feet off balance.

We continued harassing each other, doing a twisted, macabre jig about the cavern, both waiting for the other to make one fatal error. My repeated freezing attacks had slowed down his ferocious movements somewhat, but I knew that in this David versus Goliath contest I was definitely losing out physically. My ragged breathing could hardly keep up to provide sufficient oxygen to my limbs for them to continuously jump and dodge the Dodo's attacks. Even worse, the Ice Wand, which had been glowing a brilliant blue-white when I first used it, was getting dimmer with each blast, like it had a fixed amount of magic within, which I was rapidly depleting.

Just then, another foot thudded to the ground, nearly flattening me. I had to think up a way to save my life, fast. His chainmail was coated almost entirely in ice, but seemed to be only a minor distraction; the many deep cuts in my thighs and arms caused by his steel-tipped feathers were proving otherwise. I was just thinking about how much I detested his curved claws and beak, when a rash plan began to form in my mind.

Running as far away from the brutal bird was fast as possible, I concentrated hard, relying on pure desperation and luck to help me evade his iron clad projectiles. Finally, a long chain ending in a hook materialized in my hands. Sidestepping his stabbing beak and stomping feet, I dove under his belly and hooked the chain into the protective links. Then I rolled and froze the other end to the unyielding rocky ground — not a moment too soon as the Dodo landed another savage kick.

Holding my wounds to staunch the flow of blood, I watched the vicious bird realise the frozen fetters were cutting his movements like a leash, keeping him from moving up to land the final blow. He pulled and tugged, but my chain, born of sheer will and made of metal as strong as his armour, refused to budge. It was either the rock wall or his mail that would give way, and as the avian gave one hard jerk, it wasn't the adamant rock.

With a faint ripping and very loud clanking, the entire under body of the Dodo tore away from his body, frozen hard to the chainmail that proved to be his ultimate demise rather than a protection.

Liquid life spurted out, drenching me in a crimson tide, and without the layers of skin and muscle to keep them in, organs and intestines came tumbling out, splashing to the bloody ground. Having no hands or similarly adapted limbs to scoop his guts up, the helpless creature could only stamp around furiously as he died an agonising death, his claws ripping the organs or treading then flat, before he crashed to the ground, armour and all. The impact shook the cave violently, causing quite a few stalactites to fall, coincidentally creating a staircase to the central tall pillar upon which the toadstool of life grew.

Shaken by the tiring fight and the Dodo's gory death, I struggled up the stalactites, finding Chessur at the top of the stone pillar.

"My dress is completely rained," I complained faintly.

"Yes, you do have the knock for worrying about the right things at the right time. Still, the Dodo is dead, which is fortunate," Chessur replied, gazing placidly at the carnage.

"Yes, I'm completely fine, thank you so much." I looked distastefully at the toadstool. "I wish I were hallucinating–what a terrible choice: eat a toad stool or become food for insects, birds."

"I've never trusted them myself, but I suppose some must have their good points. Go on and take a bite; we haven't got all day."

* * *

"Interesting. The dress hasn't torn from all this...shrinking and growing."

"Well, the Duchess did weave some Arcane magic into this dress."

"Speaking of Arcane magic, couldn't you use some of what I have left of the Mana Crystals to stitch up the wound? I think it's beginning to hurt really badly now that I'm not so pumped up with adrenaline from the fight."

Without a word, Chessur stalked over and sprinkled the Crystals over the gaping wounds, mumbling some unknown language, and within a few second, my limbs were good as new. I held out the invaluable Ice Wand for a closer inspection, and was relieved to see it gleaning intensely once again. "Pity I can't do anything about your, um, dress's new colour code. And you stink." Chessur added.

I sighed and dusted myself. "I think ... I remember this place, though ..."

"These are Wonderland's Urbanised Sectors."

"I see, "I said, trying to get used to the metropolitan landscape after spending days wondering in wilderness. Still feeling a little weak at the knees, I stumbled forward along a quartz speckled pavement, with a signpost declaring it Bishop Avenue. Buildings, mostly constructed of crystal, glass and steel, gleamed serenely, and Wonderlanders strolled the silent transit ways. Sun flowers bobbed in the breeze among rather well manicured lawns. A welcome change from the ravenous roses I had encountered.

"It doesn't seem that anything out of the ordinary has happened around here." Though the neighbourhoods did seem rather deserted, but nowhere was there the after-blast mayhem so common in war, with entire districts reduced to quarries of urban destruction.

"Of course not. The Red Queen is all about order. Almost immediately after her victory she deployed orderlies to clear the street of rubble, debris; wounded chess pieces and dead card soldiers. In any case, if you are to progress further, I'd think you'd need some place to wash up, get a change of clothes. You're attracting too much attention," Chessur warned as yet another Wonderlander averted his eyes upon seeing us, stepping away rather quickly, and I think it'd be best if we talked to the Oracle."

"The Oracle? Isn't that the job of Absolem?"

"Ah, but he can't risk coming openly into this city, can he? Come along now. I probably know this place better than you do." Looking left and right shiftily, Chessur scampered down a side avenue, beckoning me to follow.


	16. The Pale Realm

Disclaimer: Electronic Arts (EA) and American McGee hold all copyrights to American McGee's Alice

**Chapter Sixteen: The Pale Realm**

"To enter the palace, filled with malice, is the daring work of noble Alice," uttered the Oracle in sepulchral ones.

I raised my eyebrows, but in the dim light of the tent he couldn't really see that. I wasn't very impressed, to tell the truth, seeing no difference between this Oracle and the many fortune-tellers who earned a living off my countrymen back home by trying to mystify you with some fake magical phenomenon or another then extorting preposterous consultant's fees.

Shiny crystal ball? Check.

Swirling, purple gas? Check.

Dark hood, an even darker tent and a "mystic" sounding voice? Check, check and check again. I didn't know what was going on in Chessur's head when he dragged me here, but since he was doing the paying rather than me, I couldn't care less what he said. But I digress.

"To reach an endgame with the Red Queen you will first have to defeat her sentinel: The vile, fiercilicious, and vengeful Jabberwock. Without the Eye staff that bears his name, destroying this beast is the hopeless dying wish of a wasted life."

"Well, I've already got one part of the stuff. Where can I find the others?"

It was ridiculous, really. We had been rooting in a back alley behind a boutique, when he pointed out to me that it was just hanging from a nearby back-access ladder. Made of chrome, the rather straight staff was as long as my entire arm, curving in a half-circle, supporting a very tiny mirror at its tip. (The Jabberwock Eye staff is incomparably powerful, he'd said, when I hooked the part around my shoulder. Honestly, I think that it looked worth less than the carcass of a gnat.)

"Scattered around Wonderland. Only by guide, guts and an observant eye can you obtain them all. With the completed stuff in hand, Checkmate is possible. The Pale Royals might be of use."

It didn't take me too long to leap the logic gate.

"Obscure allusions to chess pieces are fine by me, but the troubling thing is that an anonymous Oracle knows more about my path than I do." I confided in Chessur when he asked me how the fortune-telling had gone.

"Ah! Then we must take the Looking Glass continuum to the Pale Realm. Here's a portal. Now let's hope the Queen isn't keeping tabs," he remarked, as we bent into the focused glass, rushing head long through the moving vein of ethereal glitter and shine. Though I was at first too concentrated on the beauty of the surroundings, finally I recalled that this was my first time riding on undirected looking Glass, and I felt a sudden jerk as a nearby entrance portal exerted its pull on my body, causing it to fight hard to be reflected out into the real world. "Hang on," ordered Chessur as he gripped my arm to steady it. He himself travelled well, without any show of concentration on our destination. Then —

"Look out! Crystal Cyborgs!"

"Huh?" I turned to see two sword-wielding Wonderlanders having globes of crystal instead of eyes leaning forwards with swords pointing, trying to catch up with us.

Holding out the Ice Wand, I willed it to stop the pursuers in their track, but instead of producing a stream of chilling waves, a wall of ice the size of a man crystallized right in front of them, and there were a series of satisfying crunches and cracks, as the Crystal Cyborgs, unable to turn back, smashed into the uncompromising ice wall.

"Good thinking, Alice. Now I'm going to let go–we're nearly there," commended Chessur as he released my arm. Almost immediately, we were reflected on to a large checker board plain of marble and black onyx.

"Such order in the midst of chaos makes me feel woozy and disorientated."

"I agree. But the regularity of the board disguises the predatory menace of certain pieces. Still, since you know the rules, best play with White–they go first," advised my companion as he vanished.

That, however, was easier said than done. Across the checkerboard, there seemed to be spearmen clad in pristine white armour tussling with their counterparts in red — who outnumbered them. Three of the Red Pawns spotted me, and hurried over to remove this new adversary. Holding out my Wand, I swept them liberally with frigid waves, and soon there were three frozen statues adorning the board.

Seeing this display of magical might, the White Pawns took heart. Two of them plunged their frozen spears deep into the enemy, then running over to my side, motioning me forward and making to escort me safely into their imposing castle, nodding to their comrades behind their expressionless helmets. Under their cover, I marched through the silver double doors.

* * *

Within the domain of the Pale Legion, all was deathly quiet. Too quiet. I mean, I understood the rule prohibiting talking while playing chess, but this was absurd. Even the White Rook glided silently over the board to clash steel with a Red Knight galloping somehow noiselessly forward, lance at the ready.

I turned at the clopping of hooves to see another identical knight astride his crimson steed, charging right at me.

I quickly summoned an ice shield, but the knight simply tugged on his horse's reins and leapt over it, ready to trample me underfoot. However, while they were still in mid-leap, I aimed a jet of ice straight at the horse's hooves, freezing them together. Taken aback by the sudden cold, the horse fell to its knees and tumbled, unable to separate its front legs, upending its surprised rider, leaving me to freeze his helmeted head in a solid chunk. Leaving the Rook, who was bludgeoning his adversary with wild abandon using his heavy mace, I headed further inwards through the establishment, almost running into a welcoming party of the White Knight, flanked by two White Bishops.

"Alice," he stated proudly through his helmet, like I was a Blue Ribbon he had won at a jousting competition, "I am sorry to have been unable to greet you at the gates of the castle but, as you can see, we are under heavy assault by the Red Queen's pieces. Even our elite troops have been unable to prevent penetration of our stronghold by her brutal Knights and Rooks. I wish we were meeting under more cheerful circumstances, but...our King requires your help urgently. Come," he said, dismounting and putting a gauntleted hand on my back. "You are familiar with the moves, yes? The Knight moves L-shaped while the Bishop can only stay on the square of his colour."

"It is nice to see you again, but your point is...?"

"The White Queen painstakingly constructed two elaborate puzzles to prevent the Red Queen's pieces from entering the heart of the Castle, based on the moves of chess pieces." Coming to a perfectly innocent looking chess-board, I questioned, "And what prevents the Red Rooks from rushing through head long?"

"This," stated White Knight, palming a white opal and chucking it at the chess board. Immediately, there was a zapping sound, and for a moment ripples crossed an electrical screen, emanating from where the opal had passed. When I looked again, the opal had been reduced to mere fragments on either side of the screen.

"Sonic barrier. Anything passing through judders so fast and so violently, it shakes itself to pieces. If a Red Knight dared pass through he would find his organs vibrating so hard they'd shatter, or burn him from the inside. Lots of internal bleeding equals death," he declared proudly. "Step on this pedestal–turns off the sound-wave barrier but doesn't prevent steel spikes slamming downwards when you take a wrong step." I looked at him doubtfully. "Don't worry, of course; you are our esteemed guest, and I will show you the one safe path."

Recalling my last time in Looking Glass Land, the Knight had been a rash, fearful teenager with a serious inferiority complex, only knowing how to hide behind the Queen's dress hems, hardly daring to face the enemy. Now, however, "In a world which has turned twisted and evil, you seem to have changed so much for the better," I observed. "Thank you. In war, all men are soldiers. If I do not toughen up, no one else would do it for me," the White Knight stated gravely.

* * *

"What is it?"

"Begging your pardon, Your Imperial Viciousness, but out Crystal Eyes have...recorded a disturbing sight."

The Lady of Clubs placed a recording crystal upon the table and tapped on the projected virtual-board. A clip began playing, showing the White Pawns locked in combat with several Red Pawns, back dropped against the as-yet-untouched White Castle. Then the camera sight panned upwards, and from the castle keep emerged a long staff, topped with a clear diamond. It flashed white once.

Ablaze with energy, the diamond revolved downwards, its apex facing the never-ending Skirmish of the Pawns — and fired. As the Crystal Eye swept downwards, the Red Queen witnessed firsthand the White Sceptre destroying her comparably pathetic Pawns, a single blast sending each of them to oblivion. The Red Pawns wiped out, the White Pawns raised spears in silent victory, and the final image the Crystal Eye captured was a white beam speeding towards it.

The Red Queen breathed steadily at the screen of static.

"It seems that the Whites are candidly displaying their displeasure at this continued house arrest, Your Imperial Viciousness. And, as the act of defiance was witnessed by quite a number of Wonderlanders..." here the Lady of Clubs paused, fearful of the Queen's wrath and the implication.

"So that's the way you want to play it, sister? Very well." The Queen seemed to murmur to herself, then pulled a crystal communicator from the arm of her throne.

"Dear, it is in my opinion that my sister has gone too far this time. Prepare the assault zeppelins and send your finest. It is high time to remove the White Queen. I have et Mirana live _too _long for my own good."

"Of course, Iracebeth, dear. Anything to please you," soothed the Red King.

Turning off the connection, the Red Queen waved the Lady of Clubs off. "If I may say it, Your Imperial Viciousness, that was a most wise decision to remove the White Queen. We should not have allowed her to blight your land so long in the first place. I take my leave now."

"That is nothing. As I always say, remove the head and the body can't live. Mirana is the Pale Realm's head and so..." the Red Queen squeezed a flower bud so hard it shredded, and the entire plant shrivelled. "...Off with her head!"


	17. Castling

Disclaimer: Electronic Arts (EA) and American McGee hold all copyrights to American McGee's Alice

**Chapter Seventeen: Castling**

The door rattled, heavy padlocks and chains shaking hard.

Having just passed the puzzle of randomly falling spikes and hidden trap doors, the White Knight and I paused before the Inner Sanctum doors hesitantly.

"The only way to solve the problem is to take the bull by the horns." Backing a few feet, White Knight whipped his steed into a thunderous gallop, whipping my hair past my face, with his long lance at the fore, and smashed through the secure barricade like an iron ram through paper. Stepping through the buckled door, what greeted us could be summed up in one word: mayhem.

Hordes of Red Chess pieces had descended upon the Inner Sanctum, spilling from multiple zeppelins that had crashed through the walls of the room. Rooks, Knights and Bishops pummelled each other fiercely, but it was clear that White was being overwhelmed. Then double doors at the far end of the room burst open, and the White Queen, manhandled by a squad of four Red Rooks, was being pushed roughly into one of the waiting zeppelins.

"No! My Lady!" Furious, the White Knight bellowed and charged across the battle zone. However, a Red Knight, blasted backwards by a beam from a Bishop's staff, blocked his path.

"Get out of my way!"

"I guess our views are in opposition, aren't they?"

Growling like incensed bears, both mounted warriors drew swords and struck savagely at each other.

"Alice! Hurry! You must inform the King of this! We'll hold them off!" yelled the White Knight in between swings and parries. Nodding at him, I ran through the fighting field, dodging and swerving under furious maces, stray beams and hacking swords, for the wide open double doors. Immediately, two White Rooks moved forward to shut off the carnage.

"You must see the King. Follow us," instructed the Rooks in their gravelly voices.

The Rooks were quite clearly the best fighters under the White King. Though an occasional Bishop or Knight that had slipped out of battle would halt our progress, it took a few smites at most by these twin juggernauts to down the Red Pieces, as was befitting the Pale Royals' personal body guards. It didn't take us long to enter the Throne Room, in which the White King, cutting an utterly morose figure, paced nervously.

"She is here, O King."

Slowly, he turned to me.

"Help us, please. The Red Queen's forces are strong and will show no mercy. Our own Queen, after her defiant retaliation this morning, is in terrible danger."

"I saw her captured. I'm sorry."

The King looked distraught. "Without her general ship, we're doomed."

"As am I, if I can't pass through this realm, I must collect the pieces of the Jabberwock's Eye stuff."

He looked at me oddly for some time, then sighed and said, "Free the White Queen, Alice. That would help us both."

"Well, I'm not really a player. What are the rules?"

"Rules?" There are no rules. No time! There's barely even any strategy. You'll have to make a full frontal assault on the Red King's Castle. I won't lie to you. There will be deadly traps and fierce opposition at every turn."

"Should I be grateful for the truth? Alice or two might have been more convincing."

"In war, truth first. There will be time for lies later. Of course, you won't face the adversary alone. Take this solder with you into the Red Domain." Speaking such, he instructed a pawn to step forward, then shrunk him to a figure no larger than my palm.

I sniffed. "A mere pawn is the best I can hope for?"

"It's the best that anyone can hope for. I cannot leave our last bastion to open conquest by the Red Queen's Army. Make haste, please. The Rooks will know the way to enter the Red King's Castle covertly. May White Arcane Might be with you." The Rooks glided forward to escort me once more, while White King looked on with a stricken look upon his face.

The two protectors moved through the castle silently, bypassing White and Red pieces tussling each other up spiralling passageways, finally reaching a shimmering looking Glass. "You know what to do." one Rook said. I readied to bend into the Looking Glass, when all at once there was rabble behind me, and a heartening cry of "Alice!"

Astonished, the Rooks and I turned around to see the White Knight leading a near identical compatriot, two Bishops and a full complement of eight Pawns–almost a full set of pieces. Though they carried the marks of battle-weary soldiers–slight dents in the Knights' and Pawns' armour crimson blood staining the otherwise clean white cassocks–every soldier was eager to fight, to the death, even evident in their calm stance and hardened gaze.

"We couldn't let you venture into the Red Realm alone, Alice. I would be happier coming up close and personally with the brutes who took our Queen than awaiting certain doom here while we wait for the next onslaught. Rooks, will you come with us?" beseeched the Knight.

Both Royal body guards hesitated. "The King's orders were..."

"This is out of the King's hands!" hissed the Knight. "Either we die taking out as many Red pieces as we can, or we live in fear, hiding behind the walls of our own castle, which the Red Queen will ordered torn down as surely as you or I stand here. Even the King knows that with the Queen gone, he is the next target, and if he goes down as well, the Red Queen's dominion over the chessboard is complete. If we follow Alice, we have a chance to return with the Queen–with her by our side, we have a chance to fight our way out of the Red Castle and check the Red Queen's advances in Looking Glass Land."

The Rooks fell silent, their inherent craving for glorious battle fighting their utmost loyalty to the White King. Looking from Rook to Rook in what I could feel was mild disappointment, the White Knight sighed. "Whatever your decision is, we _will _pull through these troubling times. End the War of Looking Glass, and we will be one step closer to checkmating the Red Queen. And, Alice," he called to me, tone softened. "See you on the other side." Raising two fingers to his helmet in a respectful salute, as one soldier who survived numerous fights to the death to another, he turned to face his troops.

"And now...IN THE NAME OF THE WHITE QUEEN, CHARGE!" At his courageous command, the Pawns and Bishops yelled, stampeding forward into the Looking Glass, with the Knights right behind them, leaving me with the silently hemming and hawing Rooks.

"Rooks, are you with me?" I ventured. They looked stonily at each other, but before they could reply a clear cut voice cut through the air.

"We are," affirmed the White King firmly as he crossed the threshold. We will follow you wherever you go, King, and only death will release us from your service."

"Thank you, the White King replied, motioning for the bowing Rooks to rise. "The White Knight's speech has let me come to my senses, Alice. Both of you are braver than I, much more selfless than I, and infinitely more admirable than I, the King, have any right to be. I beg your forgiveness, for sending you on this kamikaze mission, that I knew you would be hard pressed to succeed, which would only draw the Red Queen's attention away for some time before she would send her full force against us like a tsunami crashing against mere fishing boats. Will you let me offer my humble services on this quest?"

The White King turned his eyes to me, and for the first time since I met him, he looked less like a wise old man, much less, but more like a young boy caught in wrongdoing. Feeling slightly overwhelmed, I simply said, "Thank you," before entering the Looking Glass. Seeing their ruler with them on this fight seemed to put steel nerves into the White Soldiers, and they cheered as though already triumphant over Red.

Our not-so motley crew of sixteen began to infiltration of the Red Castle. At every corner, Red Soldiers, taken aback by the presence of White Troops in this part of Looking Glass Land, but any resistance was crushed but the might of the Rooks' maces and the Knights' sword. Even stronger squads comprising of Bishops and Rooks were overcome easily, as the King and Bishops fired destructive beams of energy from their staffs and sceptres, while the Pawns and I rushed the enemy. As two Red Knights made the ultimate submission to the White Rooks' maces, the White King himself blasted a path into the Inner Sanctum. Surprisingly, it was completely empty except for a glinting recording crystal in the middle of the grounds. "My Lord, where have they taken the White Queen?" asked the White Knight anxiously. "I...fear the worst, Knight," answered the White King, holding up the crystal to his eyes.


	18. Long Live the Queen

Disclaimer: Electronic Arts (EA) and American McGee hold all copyrights to American McGee's Alice

**Chapter Eighteen: Long Live the Queen**

A crimson tide stood all around the Inner Sanctum courtyard, and though the moon shone brightly overhead many of the Red pieces carried torches which burned with evil-looking red flames and black smoke.

Bishops in blood-red robes holding gnarled ebony staffs.

Knights seated pompously in their malevolently glinting armour upon their scarlet steeds, which hissed breathing flames and smoke themselves, not unlike the horses of Hell

Monstrously muscled Rooks in ruby-red plate mail, beating their ponderous weapons into their oversized palms, roaring in anticipation and what was to come

Pawns chattered excitedly, laughing at some private joke.

Then, like the famous scene in Exodus, the red sea literally parted, and in came the four bulky Rooks shoving the Queen of the Pale Realm forward.

A yelp and a snigger of joy rippled through the crowd, and the doors to the Throne Room were flung open. The Red King moved out gleefully, a horrid leer on his princely middle-aged face displaying every single one of his teeth, the same way a shark does to a small fish before biting and swallowing its prey whole. Behind him, two Red Rooks hauled a freshly painted guillotine, its woodwork and blade both glimmering in the light of the torches. A howl and gibber of dismay rose from the Pale crowd.

"The White Queen is here! Bind her fast, to the guillotine," cried the Red King.

Moving fast, the Rooks turned the White Queen on her back and tied her hands and legs to the guillotine frame with a dexterity I couldn't have expected of their large hands, shouting and bellowing like they had done something brave. The Queen herself seemed utterly resigned to fate, making no noise, no resistance even when her enemies strained and tugged, pulling the cords so tight they cut into the flesh of her wrists and ankles. The Rooks then dragged her across the courtyard to lie right at the Red King's feet, and all the while Red pieces kicked at her, spit at her, hit her and jeered at her.

"Enough," commanded the Red King sharply and the crowd fell silent. The Red King towered over the White Queen and sneered.

"Well? Any last words?"

Closing her eyes, she looked braver, more beautiful and more patient than ever. "You and my sister have _never _been on good terms, less so after she conquered Wonderland. You chafe at the fact that she does not allow you to rule over Looking Glass Land, and compare yourself endlessly on matters of strategic thinking and warfare planning. Why does she subjugate and entire realm as easily as turning her palm, whilst you are no closer to concluding the endless struggle between White and Red? I know all these. So why do you now capture me willingly on her orders?"

The Red King's already red face was turning more rubicund by the second as the White Queen slighted him easily as if he was the prisoner and she the executioner, but he said not a word.

"I see you do not deny it. I know, too, your own plans for me. Obviously you would much rather face me in a single combat — and defeat me, to cripple the Pale Realm in manpower and psychologically, and prove once and for all that _you _are the better strategist, the better general than Iracebeth. There is no honour in snatching me from my throne and ending my life in a private execution. Are you, then, in the end, simply overawed by _her_ might?"

The Red King was fairly shaking with rage at the end of this even harangue, but he — with quite some effort — regained his composure. Pushing his crown higher on his forehead, he leant into the White Queen's face, breathing heavily. The camera zoomed to capture the exchange.

"Oh, Mirana," he began. "Do you naively believe that I, Lucian, King of Looking Glass Land, would be foolish enough to let this momentous feat be a "private" ceremony? Perhaps your reputation is sadly overrated. Already a Crystal Eye records the events here, and later on recording crystals will be sent to demoralise the White Troops. When they see their beloved Queen dead, I wouldn't be surprised if they fall over each other to submit to my rule. In any case, honourable or no, your sister's orders conveniently provide me with a very good excuse to get rid of one of the irritating women in my life. With you out of the way, I don't doubt that with the Chess pieces' combined might we will topple Iracebeth from her high horse, and then _both _Wonderland and Looking Glass Land will be mine, and mine alone for the taking!"

The White Queen's eyelids snapped open and she glared into the Red King's eyes, her own blazing with righteous fire.

"Do what you must," she hissed with vitriol.

Considerably unnerved, the Red King still managed to keep the satisfied expression on his face together, and if he'd just floored an opponent at Battleship.

"Off with her head!"

A click, and the onerous blade crashed to the ground, cutting through skin and flesh and bone in an instant. Before the White Army could cry out in grief, the crystal vibrated and cracked, splintering the projected recording of the White Queen's execution like glass. Doors to the Inner Sanctum, and numerous others around it, burst open, and multitudes of Red pieces stormed out, completely surrounding us in moments. We'd been led into a trap. The White Knight, however, stood resolute and unfazed by the overwhelmingly disadvantageous situation.

"Defenders of the Pale Realm, our time is now! Let us punish these infidels for what they did to our Queen with the cold steel of our weapons. Let us fight! For glory! For the Pale Royals! For Looking Glass Land!" As if his stirring words had control over the solar cycles of this realm, the sun suddenly emerged, shining brightly and strongly through the window of the Inner Sanctum — and the White Pieces attacked.

The dawn sunlight had dazzled the Red Pieces slightly, and the White Knight took the chance to level his lance and charge forward, spearing many enemies upon it. Casting the bloodied weapon aside, he unsheathed his sword, swinging it at the nearest Rook, beginning the Battle for Looking Glass proper.

Steel clashed against steel. Battle cries filled the air. White Pawns fought valiantly against Knights twice their size, and Bishops exchanged shots.

Ice Wand in hand, I sent wave after wave if chilling magic against the crimson horde, the weapon freezing Rook or Pawn alike. However, the numerical disadvantage was limiting the damage we could deal against them, and slowly but surely the Red pieces pushed us inwards in a surrounding circle. To make things worse, the doors of the Throne Room were blasted aside, and the Red King held his sceptre aloft, his crushing energy beans devastating Pawns left and right.

Realizing we were in real danger of total annihilation, the White King turned to me frantically. "Alice, hurry, retrieve Mirana's sceptre from the Throne room and hand it to the Pawn you carry, or we shall all be obliterated. I will clear a path for you." Pulling a shining spherical object from his robes, he told me to squeeze my eyes shut before throwing it into the air. The world behind my eyelids flashed red, and I figured the White King had used a dart-shaped form of the flash-bang grenade to buy time for me. Wanting to make the most of it, I sprinted forward, elbowing aside blinkered pieces as fast as I could, entering the Throne Room seconds before they recovered to notice anything amiss.

The Red King obviously wasn't a master of the subtle arts. More like a proficient at shouting his achievements from mountaintops, probably. I set the White Pawn on the ground, where he regained his original size, while I placed the sole item I had gleaned from the container labelled "White Queen's Sceptre — Highly Dangerous" in his hands.

As soon as the Pawn grasped it, wild magic flooded out of the diamond set in the sceptre, engulfing the Pawn in a tornado of white sparks. Behind the haze of white light, I saw the White Pawn's figure morphing, growing taller, and with a final brilliant flash, there stood the White Queen in regal robes.

Her young face smiled benignly at me and she kissed me gently on the cheek. "Thank you, Alice, for my rebirth," she whispered.

"How did you know my name?"

"It is my business to know things. As it is my business to pay the Red pieces back for murdering me."

Almost flying out of the Throne Room, she gazed at the pandemonium imperiously and let loose a violent discharge. White lightning jagged through the Red crowd, vaporising many Red pieces. The yells of shock, the cheers, and the screams on every side of "The Queen!" and "She's alive!" echoed louder than the clamour of battle, and the Red King spin on his base for the source of the lightning. Howling with rage at the reappearance of his most hated adversary, he blasted the Knight and Rook he was fighting backwards, sending then writhing and flailing through the air, and directed his sceptre at her back. Then the White King roared and a clear, invisible barrier expanded in the middle of the hall, and the Red King turned and locked eyes with his White counterpart at last.


	19. Checkmate in Red

**Disclaimer: Electronic Arts (EA) and American McGee hold all copyrights to American McGee's Alice**

**Chapter Nineteen: Checkmate in Red**

The two monarchs faced each other in the middle of the hall, both looking dead ahead, and began at the same moment to circle each other. However, save the momentary lapse when the White Queen was revealed to be alive, the battle around them raged on. An errant thought flashed into my head, that of a present-day night club where party-goers revelled and danced to the beat while two strippers pole-danced slowly and seductively on the centre stage. The idiotic analogy almost made me sputter in mirth, except for the fact that I was still fighting for my life. The White Queen extricated herself and moved forward, making to help.

"No. I don't want anyone else to try to help," The White King said in a deep, slow, reassuring voice. "I'm sorry, Mirana, but it's got to be like this. It's got to be me."

"Oh, but Michael doesn't mean that," Sneered the Red King, his red eyes wide. "That isn't the way he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Michael? Will it be Mirana, as usual? Is that why you sent this annoying Upper Air girl to miraculously bring her back from the dead? So that you can hide behind her superior Arcane skills, her superior strength, and her superior courage?"

"Nobody," replied the White King simply. "I don't want anyone else to get in the way. It's just you and me. It has always been, ever since the Red queen deemed you hopeless and sought greener pastures in Wonderland. Today, one of us will leave for good..."

"One of us?" jeered the Red King, his whole body taut and his red eyes staring, a snake coiled up and about to strike. "You think it will be you, do you, the useless King who survived each onslaught I have thrown at you, while you cowered and snivelled behind the skirts of greater men and women, and permitted me to massacre the Chess pieces under your command?"

"I won't let you kill anyone else tonight, Lucian. The White Knight and Alice have taught me the virtues of courage and daring to fight for the people you believe in. And with that knowledge," asserted the White King, "I _will _beat you this day, and save Looking Glass Land from the taint of Red."

They were still moving sideways, both of them, in that near perfect circle bounded by the fighting Chess pieces, maintaining the same distance from each other, and as I froze a Red Pawn in its tracks, I saw in the White King's eyes, that no face existed except for the Red King's. The Red King did not retort, and they continued circling each other like hungry wolves about to tear each other apart. Then the Queen raised her sceptre, sending lightning across the board, and its white light hid both Kings at the same time. To me their faces were instantaneously a flaming blur, and they levelled their sceptre and each other and began to duel.

Electric blue lightning arced from the White King's staff; pure black magic pulsed from the Red King's one, and both powerful bolts struck each other at the dead centre of the circle they had been treading in a cataclysmic collision of golden flames. Intense concentration wracked the White King's wrinkled face, white the Red King gritted his teeth while he sweated, focusing on the magic emerging from their rods.

Hot slivers of raw, unbridled magic spattered out of the flames, leaping to the floor and leaving dark, burnt streaks on the ruby tiles. Eventually, though, it was the younger Red King, rather than the older ruler, who showed signs of tiring in the tightly fought battle of wills. Wily old warrior that he was, the White King recognised the weakening of his opponent and pressed forth his advantage, pushing the black lightning emanating from the Red King's sceptre further and further backwards.

Unwilling to let an elder defeat him, the Red King summoned upon reserves of mental strength to force the contact point of spells to a standstill. But the White King was more robust in the mind and with painstaking effort, compelled the jet-black pulse to decrease in length again, slowly, until with a bang like a cannon blast, the Red King was flung off his feet as lightning crackled over him. However, he pushed out a dark, defensive barrier not unlike what the White King had used to defend his consort and, holding it up against the electric attack, he stood up unsteadily on his feet. Though he looked slightly singed around the edges, he was otherwise none worse for the wear, ready to trade punches for Round Two.

Glaring hatefully at the White King, the Red King took a deep breath, and instead of exhaling he breathed flames. Twisting his hands as if to shape it, the flames began to gather and mutate, forming a long fiery shape with beady eyes, an array of spikes around its head, from which extended a fanged maw: A gigantic flaming serpent.

Rearing on its belly, it rose and descended upon the White King, ready to wrap its body around him in a burning grip, but with a wave of his sceptre, a fountain of water spouted out of the air and rose, forming the shape of a liquid Titan.

Flowing forward between the fire serpent and the White King, it crashed down on top of the unearthly beast in a giant cloud of steam. Its fluid hands gripped what seemed like the serpent's neck, hissing loudly as it did battle with the flames. For a moment it looked as if the Water Elemental would boil away to nothing, but gradually the flames dies down and went out. With another wave and point of his staff, the White King directed the Water elemental to scoop the Red King in its arms like a baby, engulfing him in a slowly revolving ball of water. Before the White King could crush his adversary, though, the Red King blasted the sphere into droplets, landing heavily on the ground.

The Red King now looked shaken, standing with his head a little down. Had his magic been all but spent?

"We will finish this battle with a duel," he said solemnly over the chaotic battle sounds. "We will fight with long knives and using no magic. We are equals, Michael, and we must fight on equal terms. It is the struggle between Red and White we must decide. If I win, Red will rule Looking Glass Land. If I lose, White will be victorious. But no matter. Prepare to die! Await my victory and despair!"

The Red King threw a sword at the White King's feet, and stepped towards him, cackling maniacally. The White king had barely enough time to duck the Red King's swing, and parried each blow of his. However, it was evident that his physical body was giving him away in what was suddenly clearly an unfair combat.

Wielding his weapon, the Red King struck blow after vicious blow on the White King, whose arms started to shake and jitter with the mere effort of holding the blade against his opponent's fierce strikes. The Red King then backed off, spreading his arms wide in a mocking challenge. Enraged at the outright humiliation, the White King dashed forward, but the Red King's blade moved so swiftly and so strongly his block struck the blade out of the King's hands, while the White King himself staggered and was knocked onto the floor.

"Alice! You must save the King, or all will be lost!"

"How?"

"Here, take this!" Seeing it soar through the air, I reached out to receive the lance that the White Knight threw towards me. At that moment, time seemed to slow, like being caught in quicksand. Balancing the heavy lance, I turned to where the Red King readied to sink his blade into the hapless White King, as if carrying out a deadly sacrifice. Then I plunged the lance deep into the Red King's back, so deep an entire bloody metre protruded out from his chest, grazing the White King's neck. The blade dropped harmlessly to the ground and the Red King fell backwards, arms splayed, scarlet irises rolling upwards. Lucian of Looking Glass Land hit the floor with mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunk, the red hands empty, the ruddy face vacant and unknowing.

One shivering second of silence, then the White King got up unsteadily, and with a tap of his sceptre, reduced the former Red King to dust, uttering a single word: "Checkmate."

Then the tumult broke, and with both Pale Royals by their side, the White Army carved a bloody path through the dispirited Red Pieces. But before I could rejoin the fight, all around me, glittering Looking Glasses descended, completely cutting me off from the rampaging White Army. From each mirror stepped a sword wielding Crystal Cyborg. I prepared to fight, but one of them leant forward with a glass orb full of smoky air. There was a light chink, and then there was something pungent under my nose, suffocating me —

* * *

"Your Imperial Viciousness," The Cat, a grave expression upon his feline features, reported to the Red Queen. "Intelligence has informed us of..." his lips clamped shut, nervousness displayed plainly in his eyes.

"Out with it," said the Red Queen listlessly, deeply concentrated in the chess game she was playing. Fear tainting his breath, his expression and his steps, The Cat hastily prostrated himself upon the ground. "Your Imperial Viciousness, The Red King is dead! Killed by the Upper Air's girl's own hands! Please, forgive me for bringing you this terrible news,"

Unexpectedly, The Red Queen did not so much as bat an eyelid as she moved a Red Bishop. Then a dagger materialized in the air, and stabbed deeply into The Cat's left paw, and he grimaced in pain.

"Your...Imper — "

"I am punishing you not for bringing this professed "terrible news", but for having the audacity to interrupt my game with your meaningless wailing. The red King has died. So what? Men have only been nothing more than an irritating sideshow in my path to ultimate supremacy. _True _women don't need men. Of course, this girl from the Upper Air has proved to be more than a useless brat. It takes some measure of competence to defeat the Red King..."

She removed a tiny clockwork automaton, imprinted with the Upper Air girl's face with a wave of her hand, and tossed it casually at the kowtowing body of The Cat. "Pass this to Hightopp. He will know how to deal with her. Or at least, he will deal with her one of his ways or another. Personally..."

"Yes, Your Imperial Viciousness?"

"The question came out nearly a whimper. "Tell him that this one would be a great asset to the Crystal Cyborgs. Get out of my sight immediately. You have disturbed me more than enough. And get the orderlies in to clean up your mess."

Fearing for his life, The Cat swiftly pulled out the dagger and skedaddled out of the room, just catching the Queen mutter. "Dumb animal," as the Royal Doors hissed shut behind him.

Wherever he was, the Hatter had better know what the Queen's message meant. He didn't fancy the chances of his head staying intact if he entered a second time today.


	20. Mirror, mirror, on the wall

Disclaimer: Electronic Arts (EA) and American McGee hold all copyrights to American McGee's Alice

**Chapter Twenty: Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who's the most dangerous of them all?**

The world spun, magnified and diminished all at once as I cracked my eyelids open. Not too much of a sign that I'd been knocked out for some time, but I'll take it.

I blinked several times, trying to clear the extreme fuzziness in my head and my eyes, when all of a sudden the frame in front of me came into hard focus. Though nearly a decade younger, the dapper top hat, chiselled features and unruly red hair were quite unmistakeable: it was a younger, and much less insane, Tarrant Hightopp.

I was staring dreamily into his perfectly matched, mesmerising lime-green eyes as I lay there, still feeling rather dazed by the lingering repercussions of the Crystal Cyborgs' smoke bomb, but gravity had other ideas. My stomach felt like it had dropped a hundred feet, and the rest of my body soon followed, as I slid off the "floor", landing heavily on the ceramic-tiled "wall". Dazed by the fall, I tried to adjust to the fact that the room had, for unknown reasons, been tilted at ninety degrees, but a Crazed Oyster bumped into me heavily, knocking me to the ground, befuddled and gazing goggle-eyed at the landscape-oriented portrait of Tarrant.

"Look straight ahead. Or askance. Whichever way you choose, you must always look in the _right _direction." Looking up, I saw Chessur hanging vertically from the walls like a certain arachnid-friendly superhero I knew. Jumping gracefully he vanished in half-leap.

On my own, then. Giving myself and my weapons the once over, I was dismayed to find that the Splinter Staff seemed to have vanished, whether in the Battle for Looking Glass Land or during my abduction I didn't know. Not one to fret, I looked up and down the rather gloomy chamber, lit only my flickering red-tinted electric lamps, which threw only muted, intermittent red patches on to the orderly square tiles.

The wandering crazed Oysters aside, two long corridors branched out, turning the corner at exactly the same distance from the room. I sat down in a corner to ponder my next move, but without warning there was a loud shattering of glass and a blood-curdling scream...from the right corridor. My innate sense of... (Heroism? Self-sacrifice? Battle hunger?) ...something kicked into action, and I jumped up, running into the relevant passageway. It didn't take me more than a few steps to realise that that was the wrong move.

"Whoops," muttered my countless reflections back at me, and I went the other way into the left corridor, which turned out, of course, to be constructed out of dozens of mirrors the same way as it counterpart. Call me twitchy, but seeing myself at every turn just wasn't the thing to calm the nerves.

Well, I'd known this wasn't going to be easy. Not the most comforting thought either, but when life gave me lemons, I knew better than to demand sugar and water.

I stepped through the passageway, Ice Wand held out using both sight and touch to tell me which way would not result in me bumping my nose hard against the glass. Then the mirrored corridor split into two. I walked down the left branch at random, trying to memorise the path I was taking, but two left, three right turns and many confusing, reflectory surfaces later, I was hopelessly lost. I began to turn back in an attempt to make sense of this Looking-Glass Maze, when the air temperature dropped several tens of degrees, and I wasn't even playing around with my Wand. What faint light there was flickered and went out, leaving my in near total darkness.

My breath coming out in little clouds of mist, I turned slowly, Ice Wand in hand, its bluish-white light glow my only source of light. I watched the mystifying mirrors misting up rapidly till my face was fuzzily reflected in the thin film of condensed water. I shivered slightly, even though the lack of heating in the austere asylum for ten winters had toughened me against cold conditions somewhat. But this was even colder than the Ice Cave, and I didn't like it.

Then there was a faint clinking and two chairs struck me abruptly in the small if my back, ice crystals forming and accumulating all over my body faster than I could blink, freezing me on the spot (well, at least now I knew what it felt like to be at the receiving end of an ice attack) As if on cue, there was a shattering of glass at the end of the corner, the light from and adjacent passage spilling in, and a rusty Automaton crushed the broken fragments as it came into sight.

It rolled forward on its industrial-style treads, and I thought for a moment that it was headless until it turned to face me. Two reddish circular lights flashed, which I realised were its ocular devices, and it levelled its massive arms at me. The clenched fists at the end seemed to have locked onto my immobile body, and they didn't appear friendly. With no way of moving, I could not stop the fists, fired off the automaton's arms on mini rockets of their own, from exploding against their intended target.

Fortunately, my icy prison absorbed most of the shock, causing it to melt and crack, allowing me to turn and point my wand at the surprise attacker: The Phantasmagoria.

A medley of wraith-like spirits melding into each other, it reached out two ghostly, long-fingered hands, dim blue eyes glowing in the fold of its ethereal hood maliciously, as if it desired to wrench out my soul to add on to those giving it its own pitiful existence. But I wasn't the giving type, and I will glacial magic to flow through its spectral body. The Phantasmagoria reeled, and a mouth opened in what counted as a face for it. It drew a suffering, rattling gasp as it flinched backwards.

I could hear the steady clack-clack-clack as the Automaton made its way towards me in the darkness, but I kept up the assault on the Phantasmagoria. _Fight one enemy at a time. _I wasn't sure when I had heard that piece of advice. Some part of Chessur's ramblings, but the only useful thing I could apply now. Finally the frosty waves tore it apart, and it roared, struggling to hold itself together before as one, the fragments of souls dissipated. My wand was now dimmer, but even as I looked, the Phantasmagoria had dissolved into Mana Crystals for less than a second before the ice Wand sucked in all the glowing Crystals like a hungry beast, reinvigorating its blue-white glow.

Rounding on the Automaton, I was mildly shocked to find it too close for comfort. Reacting completely on instinct, I discharged waves of cold into its circuits, as it produced blades from its shoulders and swung its arms forward, making to splice me into three vertical bits. Arms locking in mid-swing, it jerked and coughed up a shower of sparks, the sudden drop in temperature too much for its sensitive circuitry to take.

Yet it teetered, arms attempting to move, cracking the ice that had formed around its shoulders slightly, so I pressed my attack. With one last tremble, it rolled over backwards in a heap. The lights came back on rather reluctantly, and I stepped over the decommissioned automaton, beginning to worry if my Ice Wand could last this treacherous maze.

* * *

I downed the third Automaton, now truly concerned, as the light in the Ice Wand had faded to less than a flicker. I stood up and took a few steps forward, but, my mind attentive to matters other than the obstructing robotic body. Tripping, I reached out with my hands to break the fall, but the expected ripping of my skirt and painful jabbing of shoulder blades into flesh never came.

Lifting myself off the awkward position, I turned to the Automaton to see magical blue sparks enveloping it completely. Probably the last of my Mana Crystals had spilled over it in my fall. Crap. The metal husk began to shrink, collapsing upon itself, forming a handful of...Jacks.

I picked them up curiously, reminiscent about my last memory before I was plunged into this wild, twisted world, and the bemusing way the Doctor had sprinted out of the room as Jacks clattered into the door. But though once a...fun toy, there were not going to be of any use in this land fraught with peril and deadly threats.

I chucked the five Jacks behind my back rather carelessly. A faint whirr, and a much louder crack than an offhand throw should have produced rang through the mirrored walkways. My interest piqued, I saw that large cracks had appeared in the mirror where the Jacks had embedded themselves in. Looking closer, I saw that while the six tips of each of the six Jacks were adorned with harmless steel balls, but now each ball had small but lethal triangular blades protruding from the circumference, spinning so fast they nearly shredded air for some time before the blades retracted, reducing the Jacks to a harmless toy once again.

"Now _that's _more like it," I murmured in awe. While I retrieved the last Jack, there was a whirring of quite a different nature.

Peering through the cracks in the glass, I saw two Automatons rolling their way towards me. Armed with my new weapon, I threw the Jacks hard at both 'bots. The buzz and high-pitched squeal of metal sawing through vital metal cables was music to my ears indeed, and the Jacks wrought more damage on the Automatons than I expected, bouncing back and forth numerous times, their razor sharp edges going slice-slice-slice, until both Automatons lay sparking and motionless on the tiled ground without having even laid a finger on me.

Now if only I had more of that useful Crystals.


	21. Simply Smashing

Disclaimer: Electronic Arts (EA) and American McGee hold all copyrights to American McGee's Alice

**Chapter Twenty-One: Simply Smashing**

"Only a few find the way; some don't recognise it when they do; some don't ever want to."

"That's better off than I am — the only things _I'm _recognising are myself and objects bent on killing me," I deadpanned.

"Mmm... distressing, I'm sure. There is, though, an ugly name for those who do things the hard way. All these...smoke and mirrors are merely distractions. Make like an Automaton and cannon your way through them."

"I've lost my Staff. And I _still _wouldn't know which direction to head in even if I did."

'_AIEEEE — bzzr click.__'_

"What's that?" hissed Chessur.

"Can't say for sure. I came in looking for it but in the four times it's sounded I reckon I'm nowhere closer than where I've started looking."

Morphing into muscular bipedal form, Chessur swung his powerful paws at one mirror and jumped through the hole he had smashed.

"Where're you going?"

"To find the source of the sound, wise ass, it's the only chance we have of getting out of this convoluted place!"

"Usually I dislike taking chances, but in Wonderland I suppose everything goes," I muttered, stepping over the jagged glass gingerly.

Chessur was an unstoppable force, through Phantasmagoria, Automatons and mirrors alike. Kicking aside the latest mechanical casualty, he remarked, "Whatever security company the Hatter's hired, it sure is the —"

C_lick. _

Both of us looked down at the fallen automaton. From a slot on its shoulder a brass card was poking out, one which I had never seen on the other Automatons. Easing it out, I saw engravings of eight clock faces, one with a cross over it. Turning the card around, there was a short missive at the back: 'Repair damaged (X) valve regulator'

"Valve regulator?"

"Beats me, I was never the sort who slogged it out in factories. All things reveal themselves in the end. Though, of course..." Chessur whisked the instruction card from my fingers. "I've a plan to get us to those funny regulators. It might be something..."

"Why can't _I _walk on walls and ceilings too? I'm obviously the one who needs more of those survival skills!"

"Firstly, you have neither the weight nor the physical adaptations. Also, _someone _needs to be bait for my strategy to work..." reminded Chessur, his head turned to gaze at me even as his body hung horizontally to the ceiling.

A rumbling sound echoed from the other end of the passageway.

"Ah, here comes the fish..." Chessur's body vanished from the tail, wiping out his body until only his toothy grin was left, and then even that disappeared. The automaton, upon seeing me, raised two palms. Not one to let the opponent make the first move, I blasted a concentrated jet of ice right where its crimson eyes blinked, the same time its palms hissed superheated steam that gave me a scalding caress.

Gritting my teeth against the pain, I hung back to let Chessur execute his part of the plan. Its vision obscured by a thick layer of frost, it swivelled on its base, arms whirling madly, trying to figure out where its target had vanished to.

Then Chessur appeared right behind it, card in hand, and jammed the missive into the slot amid the automaton's rabid actions. Immediately, its eyes flashed, blue instead of red.

Losing interest in attacking me, it rolled off in the opposite direction. Tagging closely behind it, we soon arrived at a large dark tunnel that we could never have found no matter how long we spent running around in that blasted mirrored maze.

However, once inside, I felt the unnatural chill that crept over me like we were descending into fog. It became colder and colder with every step we took, a cold that reached right down our throats and tore at our lungs. We barely made out the tall, dark hooded figure of the Phantasmagoria, their pain-wracked faces completely hidden.

"Chessur, quick, take care of that Phantasmagoria. I'll meet you later when this 'bot's outlived its usefulness."

"What am I, your pet?" Chessur grumbled, but he slinked forwards in the darkness. The hybrid of ghosts was fast, but Chessur was faster, and soon an anguished howl resonated through the tunnel, and my Ice Wand fed off the wraith's remains greedily, replenishing the magic within it completely.

With the lights restored, I saw that we had entered what seemed like a prison, not unlike the asylum, with unpleasantly familiar heavy-duty steel doors lining the corridor. The Automaton fed its card into the nearest door, pushing open after the card reader flashed green, and I had to hold back a gasp at the similarities.

Dirty, thin mattresses upon steel-framed beds; rotting, termite infested wooden floors and walls of rubber to prevent inmates from killing themselves too easily. But my heart hurt most when I saw the occupants of the beds: Young Oysters not more than ten years old with their limbs chained and padlocked to the bed frame, their mouths sealed tightly with duct tape, and all of the world's fear and mistrust in their eyes as they watched me and the Automaton enter.

Then the machine turned and I saw the "valve regulator": A clock, completely shattered, hung on the wall. Swiftly I threw my Jacks hard against the robot, and ran over to see what I could do for the children. I tore off the duct tape, but they managed no more than a whimper before shrinking or wriggling deep into their mattresses, shaking their heads furiously, probably thinking I was one of their tormentors and trying to block out the painful torture they expected. I now saw that their malnourished bodies were dotted with dark bruises, deep burn scars and serious cut wounds. However, the padlocks were too secure and I couldn't lessen their misery any.

"Chessur he's trapping the Oysters in these horrible cells we've gotta — "

"Do nothing. We can't," stated Chessur, almost ruthlessly. I stared at him like he'd struck me with a frying pan.

"Hey, _you _spent ten years in a cell and you don't seem worse for the wear! No, seriously," his tone turned sombre, seeing the grim look on my face. "All these...were commissioned and ordered by the Hatter. The two of us may fight really well, but there _are _just two of us against his innumerable Crystal Cyborgs and Automatons. If we rush in trying to be heroes without any planning...this could well be the end of the road for you."

"Wow. Why the sudden doom-and-gloom prediction?"

Chessur scoffed.

"Because you yourself know very well it _shouldn't _be, my dear girl. Of all the... well, I won't say undesirable, but rather odd characters you met in Wonderland, Tarrant was the only one you truly bonded with. You need to find out how the Red Queen has been able to corrupt him so, and I believe only you will be able to reverse those effects. With him and the victorious Whites on our side, the Resistance can finally get back on its feet."

He paused for effect.

"Mmm. I made a speech about something. It sounded very good. Really inspirational, don't you agree? But let's progress to more pressing matters. This," he said, encompassing our grim surroundings with one wave, "is one of the prison branches of the Hatter's munitions factory. These valve regulators all help to keep the gates into the factory itself securely locked, meaning our first step is to break all those clocks. The ca — "

A resounding stomping came from around the corner behind Chessur. I looked up. He turned. Four Crystal Cyborgs tramped into the room, two wielding long swords while the others had spinning blades in place of hands.

"Well, then I'm glad Tarrant's body guards are making it so easy for us."

Leaping backwards to avoid the blur of revolving death at the hand blades, I unleashed the Jacks on one blade-fisted Crystal Cyborg, using the pulsing Ice Wand to jam the whirring edges of the other, while Chessur jumped, dodged and clawed huge gashes in the sword-wielding Crystal Cyborgs.

Without the usage of his hand-blades, the remaining Crystal Cyborg I was fighting was effectively neutralised, putting up hardly any resistance as I sank the steel of my own Blade into his chest. Chessur had also fared well, suffering no more than a minor scratch along one arm where a sword or hand-blade had nicked him.

"Good job, Alice. As I was saying," continued Chessur conversationally, "that card _should _be able to unlock all these doors for you to break the clocks."

"Right...wait, _should?_"

He shrugged.

"I was hoping that Tarrant wouldn't put as much thought into planning his prisons as compared to his automatons. But don't fret. After all, what's a group of angry Crystal Cyborgs alerted by a prison alarm between ex-friends?"

"You are making me positively _brim _with confidence..._not,_" I shot back as I crossed my fingers and slotted the card into the niche of another door.


	22. Nostalgia

**Chapter Twenty-Two: Nostalgia**

Flinging my Blade, I shattered the final clack. Over the twang made my springs popping out and the clattering of gears dropping to the ground, there was a hiss of steam, a torrent born of years of being held back by strong metal barriers and an almighty explosion that shocked the prison-house. Instantly, a holler rose from deep within its bowels, followed by threatening, mechanical marching.

I looked at Chessur, dismayed.

"That worked better than _any _warning siren."

He huffed. "I couldn't have known it would unlock in such a grandstanding manner."

The footsteps were getting closer and closer.

"I think they're making their way in soon. What do we do?"

He cocked his ears, using supernatural hearing to listen for the source of the striding. "They've come down the entrance of the Looking Glass maze, cutting off the only exit we've got. No choice but to move further into the munitions factory. Hurry!"

Moving towards the bolted wooden doors, Chessur simply broke its hinges off, motioning for me to follow. The doors collapsed to the ground, and I stopped short for a fraction of a second. Behind them was an endless stretch of pitch-black, with only a long flat stony panel to count as any kind of walkway in the infinitely extensive abyss, and it seemed to tilt downwards as Chessur leapt upon it.

But then self-preservation overcame my fear of the unknown, and I ran out into the void. Alas, I wasn't as light as Chessur and as I had suspected, the panel wasn't exactly suspended firmly in the air. The tilt from my weight was much greater, much more rapid, and I probably would have began falling a really long time if a claw hadn't pinned the sleeve of my dress to the stone.

"You gotta be lightweight on these things," I observed dryly, "Or be a _really _fast runner."

A loud shout of "There they are!" coming from the open doorway was yet another convincing factor.

Glancing behind as I stepped on the second panel, I saw the Crystal Cyborgs jumping aboard the first one, while others aimed ACEs at our backs.

However, they probably hadn't chased intruders across this diabolical contraption in a long time, and instead of the stinging cut of steel I expected, the slicing razor cards thumped into the now-vertical panel, while I heard frantic scrabbling noises as Crystal Cyborgs fried but failed to gain purchase on the smooth stone.

I scooted after Chessur, my weapons within easy reach, ready to use them against the Boojums and Phantasmagoria whom I soon found out proliferated these precarious sky bridges, where land-bound intruders would be distinctly disadvantaged against these ghostly guards.

All around us, Roman numerals hung unmoving as if supported by invisible sky hooks, making the entire landscape resemble the face of an enormous armless clock.

"Time to jump in Time to jump through time...I'm almost dizzy. But let's get through that door first," said Chessur, leaping from panel to panel nimbly, pointing at a door similar to the one he had broken down, except it was bordered by two hissing, very damaged pipes. Meeting no further resistance, we pushed the doors open — and before me stood the corpulent masses that were Tweedledee and Tweedledum.

* * *

"Look, 'Dum! It's what's-her-name from the neurotic's ward! Nurse's favourite lunatic because she's _so _pretty."

"Oh yea? A bit on the scrawny side, ain't she? Who let her in, then? They'll blame us, most like," groused Tweedledum, his truly elephantine belly jiggling so much his red-and-white striped T-shirt threatened to tear.

"She'll need more medicine. _Strong _medicine."

"She got anything to eat?"

"Doubt it. She never finishes her grub at the asylum. If she had any meat on her she'd make a delectable gal!"

An abhorrent memory flashed through my head, and I was reminded of the twin orderlies that came to Rutledge when I was fourteen. Or fifteen. I hadn't cared, really. _ Hey Alice! Here's your lunch!" "Yea! Better eat up, or our uncle will be _most _displeased!" "Don't want to." "Don't, eh? Young missus giving us a bit of an attitude today? Hold her down, brother. I'll do the feeding today." _And one of them would wrench my head back, forcing my jaw open while the other grasped my hands in one hand and forced the spoon down my throat, shovelling food again and again until I gagged and choked, which was when they would snigger and jam bottles of water or some other disgusting liquid to wash down the disgusting gruel.

"Disgusting, grotesque and smelly louts! I'll fill your bellies, all right!"

"Oooh...feisty girl, this one is. And I do _love _feisty girls..."

The words struck me with the force of a bomb, making me nearly stumble backwards from the sheer brutal familiarity. "You...wouldn't...dare..." I hissed through gritted teeth.

* * *

They came in noisily one night. I was scratching — trying to scratch — the bloodied but undamaged wooden floor with my nails, without any success. Couldn't, and wouldn't sleep, for fear of the terrifying nightmares that would plague me.

"Alice," one of them piped up, unlocking the reinforced metal door. "Happy birthday!"

I looked up at them suspiciously. "Why, thank you." I hadn't even known when my birthday was, or that anyone would care to have bothered about. It.

"Well, since it's your sweet fifteenth and everything, I'd think you'd like a little gift from the both of us ," simpered the other as he lay the chipped bowl on the floor gently, without even rattling the spoon.

"What gift?"

"Ah, Alice, I don't suppose you've ever had a taste of man before, have you?"

"_What_ are you talking about?" "Hey, she doesn't know, brother! This is gonna be easy..." said the first to the second. Then, as one, they took of their tops, revealing their pale, bare chests.

"What are you doing?"

"Take off your clothes, Alice," The first brother said, moving closer to me, backing me into the room as I crawled with both hands.

"No! Don't you dare touch me!"

"Now, Alice, relax, It'll be fun for both of us if you don't resist. I promise you, once you've tried it I promise you, once you've tried it you'll never want to stop."

"_NO!_" I screeched, grabbing the bowl and hurling it at the closer brother.

"Oooh...feisty girl, this one. I like feisty girls," purred the orderly as he mopped the gruel from his face. Before I could react, he leapt forward in a flash, grabbing my long, unkempt hair and jerking it backwards. I screamed, and screamed again as his strong hands tugged and tugged under my skirt, ripping my knickers from between my legs.

"Scream all you want, bitch. The doors and walls are too thick for anyone to hear you. Now give it to her, bro. Teach her a lesson nice and good!"

"With pleasure," The other brother rasped, unbuckling his belt and pulling down his ridiculously tented pants eagerly. Disgusted, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to twist my head to one side, screaming again. Then suddenly the first brother grabbed my arms from behind my back, and slapped me tight across the cheek. "When my brother talks you look him in the eyes, you understand? You understand?" he fairly yelled, seeing me still defiant, and slapped me so hard I nearly opened my eyes. I gasped, not from the pain of the slap, but from the shock as the second twin sank something into my nether regions, then wriggled it around energetically. I tried to cross my legs, but he planted both knees down, keeping them apart.

"No...don't...do...this...Aaah!" I had gasped, shocking myself, but the waves of sensation emanating from his moving digit were nothing like I'd ever felt before.

"My, my, getting _so_ wet down here. Looks like you like this already, slut. Mmm, I do like the taste of a virgin cunt. I think she's ready." Without warning, he buried the full length of this thick meaty shaft into where he'd just removed his fingers.

"Ahh..._such_ a tight pussy."

I could feel my vaginal walls stretching excruciatingly wide to accommodate him.

Deep inside me, I felt something tear.

I shrieked in pain, and just kept on shrieking as he pounded into me mercilessly, only this time it was all pure pain rather than any feelings of enjoyment.

"You're giving her a real good time, brother. Cumming so fast and so hard!' Desperate to end this mindless ordeal, I looked anywhere but my rapist, seeing the metal spoon within arm's reach. Wrenching my hand from the first brother's less-than-firm-grasp, I grabbed the spoon and stabbed it into the other brother's eye socket, then yanking it out so hard I tore his eyeball clean from the optic nerves.

"Arrgh!" he yelled, clasping both hands to his left, now-empty, socket. Still grasping the spoon, I twisted around and stuck its other end violently into the first's twin's groin. He doubled over, howling in pain. The other brother had burst out of my cell, screaming bloody murder. Feeling completely drained from the soreness in my lower body and the utter humiliation, I had just enough strength to drag the crouching form of the first brother out of the room before slamming the door shut with my back against it, breathing hard. Then I cowered down, clutching the spoon like a lifeline, crying the rest of my night and most of the day away.


	23. The Mighty have Fallen

**Disclaimer: Electronic Arts (EA) and American McGee hold all copyrights to American McGee's Alice**

**Chapter Twenty-Three: The Mighty Have Fallen**

"The bigger they are, the harder they fall," advised Chessur, mercifully preventing me from continuing to relive that horrible memory. "Shut up! If you don't have anything useful to add just _keep your trap shut!" _I roared at him, my breathing becoming ragged. All the pent-up rage against my tormentors, bottled within me for so long, exploded outwards dramatically.

Horns burst out of my head and shoulders while finger bones elongated into foot-long claws, each tapering off in a knife-sharp edge. My nearly-instantaneous demonic metamorphosis, triggered by my wrath, occurred so abruptly even Chessur took an involuntary step backwards.

Flexing my claws, I cast a baleful glare at the Tweedles, anger rippling almost noticeably from my scarlet skin. "Five years is a long while to wait for vengeance...but today I'll finally get the chance to rend you from limb to limb for what you did to me!"

I screeched and leapt forward with supernatural speed, my right hand closing upon the favoured Blade. They just smirked and pulled out identical thick batons, swinging them with a swiftness that belied their size, parrying my swinging claws and slashing knife.

Bounding back immediately, I bent forward to gore them with my horns. However, they seemed to have anticipated my move, and both Tweedles split into half along the middle, producing smaller versions of themselves, who put on add little caps with propellers on them.

Setting their flying beanies in motion, the mini-Tweedles flew into the air out of my weapons' reach, whether anatomical or artificial. As one, they hurled a variety of objects at me from their aerial position. Jumping to the left, I avoided an Exploding Cracker, but there was a flash and the world abruptly went white as I was blinded by a dazzle dart.

Though my sight was compromised, I clearly heard the heavy footfalls of one brother stomping my way, convinced that the dazzle dart had completely nullified my damage causing capabilities. But he was wrong, and I thrust both my hands out blindly, scratching wildly. An evil smile spread across my face as I felt my claws make contact, and the twin jumped back, shaking the floor heavily, yelping in pain.

My vision cleared, just in time for me to see Tweedledum dropping on me from the air, Billy-club poised to knock off my head. Promptly, I threw the Jacks into his face then backed off while 'Dum landed heavily on the ground.

However the mini-Dees and Dums were getting ready for another bombing, so I wound up the Jackbomb completely in less than that it took to say 'bang', and hurled it into the air, hearing the satisfying screams of pain and crackling of burning flesh of the Tweedle clones dying in the searing flames. The Jacks then let off Tweedledee and bounced back into my hands.

I tried to grab the Jackbomb to use upon the brothers, but a figure stepped into my way: the Brobdingnagian Tweedledee, bleeding lightly from six long scratch marks on his abdomen.

Snarling, I went at him with the Blade once again, but once again his baton came up, blocking my savage blow. I hissed, then ducked to avoid the swing of 'Dum's baton, whom I had heard trying to sneak up stealthily behind me — not an easy task for one with his roly-poly figure. At the same time, I sunk the claws of my left hand deep into Dee's calves and dragged them downwards like cutting butter with a knife, leaving him with five gashes much deeper than the superficial injuries on his belly, gushing copious amounts of blood.

He flinched away, howling in pain.

But there's no rest for the wicked, and I threw my Jacks at him to finish the brute off.

Then I turned, swinging my Blade at 'Dum, but like his plumper twin, he managed to swing first, catching my weapon in a deadlock. I locked eyes with him, and was unwittingly reminded of that repulsive face, grinning ecstatically as he slammed his body into me again and again.

As if able to see what was going on in my mind, 'Dum began smiling slowly, leaning in and whispering, "When I've got you good and beaten, do you know how you'll spend the rest of your life? You'll be my sex slave, bitch, and I don't doubt I'll be the first guy to get you to cum, and when you've experienced _that_ you'll be happy to pander to my every need in exchange for that ultimate thrill again and again..."

Shrieking with fury, I brought my Blade up and slashed downwards so hard it sawed Dum's baton exactly in two. The lascivious leer on his face was immediately replaced by a fleeting visage of fear, but it soon passed and his hand dove into his voluminous pockets in search for another weapon.

I wasn't giving him such a chance, especially when he hadn't given me one half a decade ago. Claws outstretched, I jammed my left hand into his shoulder, making him screech in pain.

I dug my fingers deep into the flesh and wrenched hard, my hellish strength enabling me to tear the limb completely away from its socket. Then I unleashed powerful kicks at his privates until there was naught left but a bloody mess and his shrieks cut off as he fell unconscious.

Seeing that he was no longer cross-eyed with hurt, I slapped him hard, claws raking five deep slashes across his cheeks. "So my _entire family_ dying weren't enough, was it? I _just _had to have the luck to get you two sickos as asylum workers, didn't I? So I could live with even more suffering? How do you like the suffering now? Huh?" I lambasted madly, slashing Tweedledum's hapless body in a demented frenzy.

Finally the screams of distress softened and died down.

I stepped off the dead twin's chest, horns and other unnatural bone structures shrinking back, the roseate tint of my skin diminishing.

Tweedledum looked as if a pack of hungry wolves had mauled, eviscerated and disembowelled him. Strips of flesh hung off his bones, and ripped intestines sagged listlessly on the dirty chrome floor from a yawning wound in his abdomen. Both his eyes had been gouged out, and grievous injuries criss-crossing his face meant the chubby bully was hardly recognisable.

His brother hadn't found the Jacks a kind and understanding chum either, but the lacerations he had received from the toy were nothing when compared to the livid assault I had dealt to 'Dum. Staring at the sorry sight the two brothers had ended up after messing with me, I began cackling maniacally, vindictive that I had served them their just desserts.

"Bad timing. Pity. Reliable help is so hard to find these days. Come in, my dear. You're just in time for tea."

I paused mid-cackle looking up to see Tarrant's handsome face staring down at me from an outsized mirror mounted on the ceiling, his eyes blank and his thin mouth unsmiling.

"I only take mine with friends," I replied curtly.

At this, his lips curved up at the corners, but the smile never reached his bright red eyes. "Count me to be among them. Accurately. I mean, honestly. That's the truth...oh, I quite forgot. You and the truth are _not _on familiar terms."

"And _you _would know!"

"Truth is _always _bitter to those who fear it."

"I fear _nothing,_" I retorted.

He grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling in private amusement. "False. You fear much — a return trip to the asylum, for example. The memories that drove you there in the first place, or those that caused you to eliminate my factory's security guards so viciously. More years in, shall we say, supervised hospitalisation. Ah yes, you fear much. Of course, all that _might _be avoided."

"Tell me! What do you mean?" I yelled.

For once, Tarrant's focus seemed to slip, and he frowned deeply. Then his eyes glazed over, making him resemble a healthy corpse. His hand traced an elaborate pattern in the air, and a hidden trapdoor opened beneath me.

Spiralling down a dry, dark tunnel, I was funnelled neatly into a smooth travellating belt. A loud drone began to approach, but I rolled off the belt before the descending robotic arm could grasp me tight.

Then I saw similar arms clasping struggling, tearing but otherwise silent (only because the grip was clamped tightly around their mouths) Oysters, restricting them to the belt. But concern for the children soon took a backseat when an explosive fist almost struck home, blowing me off my feet.

Pirouetting, I hurled my Jacks at the advancing Automaton. Looking back at the belt, I noticed it extended all around the cavernous manufacturing chamber, exiting it through a rubber-flapped opening. Treading gingerly on the treacherous floor, littered with trash and assorted discarded gadgets, I made my way to the egress.

Silently, a Boojum descended upon me, thinking to scream me into submission. Sadly for the shrieking spectre, I had picked up quite a few new tricks — as well as a few new weapons since the last time I had encountered its kind. A flick of my Ice Wand banished the Boojum, degrading it to mere juice for my weapon. With the other Automatons too far placed across the compound to threaten me, I escaped the room easily.


	24. Crazed Clockwork

**Disclaimer: Electronic Arts (EA) and American McGee hold all copyrights to American McGee's Alice**

**Chapter Twenty-Four: Crazed Clockwork**

Squeezing out from between the tight rubber flaps, I walked into what seemed like a small antechamber, behind the actual factory and its clangourous workings.

At the far end of the room was a large glassy viewing glass, which contained a copper machine covered in numerous turning cogs and wheels. Fitted with a long wide mouthed pipe, it bent downwards to a glass-crafted, cylindrical container not unlike the sensory deprivation chambers shown in movies, used by mad scientists to create evil mutant chimeras or to keep the eldritch creations under control.

Looking to the travellator, I saw that it too ended above the cylindrical tank. Then there was a muted hum, and the conveyor belt inched forward, bringing with it one terrified Oyster. As the child reached the end of the belt, the grasping arms released him right into the tank.

Immediately the young Oyster started trying to climb out of the impossibly smooth walls in vain, and clear liquid gushed out of the pipe into the tank while the machine spat what seemed like random bits of metal trash into the tank. Miniature robotic arms extended from the bottom of the tank and secured shut a lid.

Out of the blue, the "trash" seemed to gain sentience of their own, extending a wide range of cutting, drilling and piercing parts from their innards and began to carve at the Oyster energetically and enthusiastically…except the poor child was clearly not deprived of any sense.

I looked on, horrified, as he trashed in the confines of the tanks violently, knowing that the agony he was being subjected to by the slicing blades of the machines must be unbearable to his young body.

Sensing resistance, robotic arms extended from the upper and lower sides of the tank to restrain his limbs, pulling them outwards until he was in a spread-eagled position so tight he could barely buck his torso without rending it in half.

He didn't have to worry about that, though — the mini-machines were hard at work, excising layers of skin and muscle, pulling them back for another machine to fit in robotic components and lay wires connecting the parts; deftly severing accurately measured squares of flesh and replacing them with weaponised or tool-fitted units, the blood that was spilling out into the tank not affecting them at all.

Finally, they ripped the child's eyeballs out, slotting two glowing crystal orbs into the sockets. Electricity crackled, and I shielded my eyes against the flash. When I removed my arm, the cylindrical tank gurgled, sucking in the bloody water, then hissed open, releasing the child-turned monster—a Crystal Cyborg. Its vision crystals flashed, and it turned, marching rigidly out of my view. Moments later, the belt hummed again, carrying yet another fearful child, ready to make yet another killer robot out of him.

"No! Stop!" I commanded forcefully, trying to smash my Blade into the glass. It didn't even make so much as a tiny crack on the transparent surface.

"Ah, Alice, don't waste your effort trying. It's missile-proof glass, for Hearts' sake. And since the Hatter made it, it is quite obviously the strongest there is in the realm...Mally! Wake up! Someone's come!"

_Thackery Earwicket and Mallymkun, obviously, _I thought. _Sneaky of them to enter without me noticing._ "Were you impolite at the table? Did you slurp your tea, or talk while chewing? Confess your crime!"

"We've done nothing of the kind!" rebutted Thackery indignantly. "It's the Hatter — he's gone _quite _mad, I do say so! Speaking of which, how is the Red Queen _not _like a typhoon?"

"_By the way, how is a Raven like a writing desk?" _I shook my head sadly at the distant memory, remembering Tarrant's kind wit and humorous nature. But times and things had changed — Wonderland grew up, and so did I.

"Both are powerful, destructive, and, from what I've witnessed, indiscriminately cruel. But the _typhoon _doesn't mean to be."

"Good answer! Wrong, but good! Now undo us, please, from this contraption!"

"Or you could give us tea, if you prefer..." interrupted Mallymkun dreamily. Something in Thackery's tone caught my attention, and I swivelled to face the directions of their voices.

What I saw would have shocked me to no end if I hadn't already witnessed worse. Pinned to wooden dissection tables like oversized specimens, both Thackery and Mallymkun had been largely replaced with automated limbs or body parts, the organic portions of their bodies reduced to such a pathetic percentage that basic life support had to be taken care of by the unfeeling machinery.

An overworked hydraulic pump fought to keep the lungs in Thackery's cut up rib cage contracting and relaxing. Complicated arrangements of intravenous drips ran from many points on Mallymkun's torso and arms, to supply sufficient nutrients to provide energy for the survival of the only remaining living parts of his body, which had been removed from the stomach down, substituted my twitching steel legs and a tail.

"Oh, I beg your pardon! You _are _in real danger! Where is your host?" I exclaimed.

"Real danger? Are we? _Really?_ Thackery, I wish to go home. Evidently I have worn out my welcome..." sighed Mallymkun.

"The Hatter will be here at six! Sharp as clockwork!" stated the Hare firmly.

"Misses no opportunity to deny us out tea! Most cruel, I'm sure...and his medicine makes my _sleepy_..." Mallymkun yawned deeply, and fell silent, his faint snores adding to the silenced cacophony of the Crystal Cyborg production line.

"How do I get to the Hatter?" "Oh, here or there, there or here..." Thackery murmured dozily, motioning at an odd lever set in the ground. I pulled it backwards, and a ladder descended slowly from the ceiling. Unable to do anything for my slumbering friends, I ascended, disturbed.

* * *

The Hatter stomped into the room, a tiny clockwork device perched on his shoulder like a ridiculous mechanised parrot. Grabbing his crystal communicator, he hissed at his Crystal Cyborg General's bust.

"Well?"

"Yes, my liege?" asked the General with all wide-crystal innocence.

The Hatter grimaced slightly at the robotic idiocy of his creations.

"There's been no sign of this character?" he enquired sharply while uploading the digital image files of Alice, as though he hadn't done so dozens of times already.

"Well...none that you would wish to know of, my liege. Her appearance was, in our opinion, the direct cause of the demolition of at least half a dozen Clockwork Automaton Terminators (CATs), not to mention the numbers of resident Boojums or Phantasmagoria. The manner of the CATs' decommissions point conclusively to the creature Alice being responsible, judging by the efficient way she eliminated a squadron of my Crystal Cyborgs at one of the prison out houses."

"Well, she's nothing if not lethal. Where was she last?"

"Inactive CATs and dead Crystal Cyborgs have been recovered from the Highly Alarming Tenants (HAT) Wing."

The Hatter frowned. That section of the Factory housed Thackery Earwicket and Mallymkun and...Razerious. His former tea partners were floundering foibles, more a threat to their own machine-ridden body than any Crystal Cyborg of his — hardly terrorising characters.

But Razerious was no idle beast, being one of the two objects the Red Queen had placed in his especial care.

Only by a triple-layer of self-regenerating missile-proof glass, energy shackles binding his powerful feet and wings, and an Arcane reversal field muzzle that did not impede speech but cancelled out any attempt to fire a blizzard from his mouth could they keep him under control. If Alice managed to free him...the Hatter didn't know what to worry about more — their combined combat skills or the Queen's wrath.

"General, I will be handling this unwanted intruder personally. The Queen happens to insist on it." _Since you useless things have displayed such gross incompetency when you fell by the dozens at a mere touch from her. _

"You have my health monitor built into you. Send down heavy guard to the Mechanized Altercation Domain if and only if my readouts red line. I trust I do not have to instruct your troops on how to deal with the girl while I lay badly injured."

"Understood, my liege."

Pausing to pick up his self-made ebony cane, he stalked towards the metal gates leading into the Domain and slotted his staff into the complicated lock. There was a series of clanks, of assorted metal pieces locking into place, and the door magically folded in upon itself.

The Hatter stood scowling at the clock face on the ground, which currently showed that the time was five minutes to six from the tall watchtower. He reached for his crystal infocomm device.


	25. About Face

**Disclaimer: Electronic Arts (EA) and American McGee hold all copyrights to American McGee's Alice**

**Chapter Twenty-Five: About Face**

I peered into the shadowy gloom of the room. Along both sides of the dim corridor were bust-length portraits of the demented Tarrant.

I cleared the thick layer of dust from the caption beneath one portrait and read, "I like what I do is the same as I do what I like, don't you agree? So I do."

A cynical voice came from the darkness: "Every picture tells a story. Sometimes we don't like the ending. Sometimes we don't _understand _it."

Glaring white lights lit up the chamber, clearly showing the imprisoned form of Razerious.

"Razerious," I said, surprised that he, too had been captured by Tarrant.

"Nice to meet you too, Alice. Please excuse my current state; I assure you I do not intend to let it be long-term."

I looked from the thick reinforced glass, to the arcing energy shackles, to his princely gaze, and snorted disbelievingly. "It seems that you have something in common Mr. Earwicket and Mallymkun. Those two seem to barely comprehend their situation."

Razerious' expression hardened, and if he had nostrils, I was sure he would have exhaled indignantly. He tried to spread his wings to intimidate me, but the energy shackles sizzled, keeping them bound tight. Pride wounded, he cussed irritably and settled for impressing me with the commanding power of his voice.

"_They're _blithering idiots," he pronounced, "But the Hatter _does _come at six on the dot."

* * *

"_Oh dear, I _must _be going. How long have I been here? Two hours? Three?" _

_Smiling, Tarrant invited me to look at his pocket watch: it was six o'clock. Still no change at all from when I'd been escorted to the party by Chessur. _

"_But...that's..." _

"_Impossible. In your world, I would think. But down here my time stays at six forever. My guess is the Queen of Hearts didn't take too kindly to one of my practical jokes, so...Anyway, six is tea-time, you see. Which suits me completely, as I'm sure you'd agree," he chuckled_.

* * *

"For his tea?" I asked, remembering that incident. Razerious narrowed his eyes at me, probably wondering if I was making a joke out of this.

"No. To check on his cruel experiments. With gears, springs and mechanical gizzards, he seeks an _impossible _precision. Like a professional watchmaker obsessed with the infinitesimal fractions of seconds, or a mathematician who tries to square the circle. He'll turn _all _the inhabitants of Wonderland into his Crystal Cyborgs, or kill them in the attempt."

I was aghast.

"But that's simply awful! We have to stop him. Six o'clock, did you say?"

"Six precisely, by _that _clock," he affirmed, jutting his beak at an analogue timekeeper set n the floor. "You'll have to do it on your own, of course. These restraints are too powerful and only the Hatter has the key."

I was already looking thoughtfully at the clock, which displayed the time five fifty-five. "Hmm...Perhaps six comes early today?"

"Alice." That cold, logical whisper rang through the entire factory. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard it issue just behind my back.

Though it was a mere hologram, a faint substitute of the true person, its presence alone made my chest tight and my breath quicken, knowing that the now-evil and ruthlessly intelligent Tarrant was watching my every move.

"It will be six soon. We need to talk about your hand in the destruction wreaked in my factory and its personnel. Can we meet at tea-time at the MAD? You see, the late Queen accused me of murdering time...and she was very wrong indeed! I have _another _object in mind. Please, follow my hologram. They will show you the way. Do hurry up. If you knew time as well as I, you wouldn't think of wasting it!"

With a crazed chuckle, the transmission stopped, and the hologram stepped forward ahead of me. Seeing me still rooted to the ground in consternation, the imago stopped, parallel to me, and with a hand gesture, motioned suavely for me to follow.

Razerious, observing my hesitation, gave the avian/bestial equivalent of a noncommittal shrug.

"As an old ally of mine once said, confront what frightens or offends you; reckless or offending talk should _never _go unchallenged. I, for one, would like nothing better than to get out of these torturous chains, and it seems that for you to face down the Hatter would be the best way to help both of us. In any case…"

He suddenly looked about shiftily, as if the ears on the Hatter's hologram could transmit audio signals back to the man himself.

"The Hatter has not been himself ever since rumours of you setting foot in Wonderland once again spread. Coincidence? I think not. And while it never rains but it pours, I believe that when you finally come face-to-face with him, it will be the turning point in the War for Wonderland. Have faith, Alice. It's all we have. I cannot be there in body but I definitely will be there in spirit."

I looked at him rather disdainfully.

"Brave words of the one who's not doing the fighting, I'm sure," I mocked, before joining the hologram towards MAD, without pausing to see the effects of my words.

"Tarrant? I know you're here. Please come out, I just want to talk!"

* * *

_Yea, Alice. Make that peaceable statement more convincing with the Vorpal Blade in your hand, _thought the Hatter as he righted the magnification on his viewing lenses.

"Years of abuse have heightened your paranoia to psychotic levels, I see...but then again, that might prove to my advantage."

The Hatter grinned nastily. One way or another, he would remove the greatest psychological obstacle to him today.

"My liege, the Upper Air girl by the name of Alice is here and she requests you. Will you move down to meet her?"

"Yes, of course."

Today he would exorcise the ghosts of his past. Today he would face this insolent girl, and prevail. Once she was out of the way, there would be nothing stopping him from becoming the next King of Wonderland.

* * *

"Tarrant," I breathed as he sauntered haughtily from a clock tower in his signature top hat, brown tailored coat and silver headed cane. "They say you've changed so much, but surely your feelings for me haven't...Have they?"

Score one for complete coherence.

Tarrant simply stared at me from his chalk white face, the shock of bright red-orange hair barely hidden under that top hat of his, coldness in his eyes.

Actually, it was something beyond coldness. Coldness would imply some sort of human emotion, but there was none present in Tarrant's eyes.

He looked at me like I was a ruined clock, or an armless Automaton, or even a tea set with its teapot missing, the shattered pieces of its cups scattered on the ground. As if it vaguely bothered him that I existed, or was the shape I was, but nothing stronger than that.

My heart sinking, I reached out a hand towards the one that gripped the long, sleek cane. His breathing seemed to quicken for a fraction, but he made no move to stop me, and I rested my hand over his, feeling how very cold it was...

* * *

The frosted doors parted, and he laid eyes upon his adversary, Alice, in the flesh, at long last.

His heartbeat raced for no apparent reason as he strode the length of the clock face towards her, but he somehow managed to keep his impassive countenance together while he studied her concerned eyes, her cheeks, flushed from the constant strain that she'd had to experience while fighting her way through Wonderland (pertinent question: _Where _had she learnt to fight like that?), and the straight, shoulder-length dark brown hair that glimmered in the spotlights shining from the clock towers, still relatively neat despite the trials and tribulations she'd faced.

He wanted to grab her neck, to wring the life out of her, but seeing the girl had unlocked something he had thought dead and buried beneath the astronomical calculations or the planning of tactical strikes on Wonderlanders to keep their allegiance to the Queen.

Compassion?

Kindness?

God forbid, _love_?

Impossible.

Feelings were overrated. He knew that. The Wonderlanders who thrived in the rule of the Hearts, as well as the King and Queen themselves, had feelings, love, kinship, displaying kindness to one another at every chance possible.

Just thinking about it made him want to puke, or laugh at their naïveté. Look where that had got them.

Did the Hearts' love for the Queendom stop the Red Queen from bulldozing her way through the pathetic Heart Guards, murdering both Royals in a single day while the other Ruling Suits fawned sycophantically over their new Queen rather than move a finger to help the former one?

Love, which did not prevent his Crystal Cyborgs, the Royal Flush, and the CATs (all his creations and pleasantly devoid of any feelings whatsoever) from stamping out Wonderlanders like so many cockroaches?

Even the supposed well-meaning and "brotherhood" of wannabe revolutionary groups had naught to show for it, the bonds between fellow rebels undermined so easily by good business sense, a statement proved right time and again when the Red Queen reached into her voluminous pockets for ever more crystals, and successfully bribed insurgents to spill their guts on headquarters, meeting times, and other seditionists' names, after which the Red Queen would make them do so literally.

It was rumoured that the Queen's private collection of preserved organs was growing steadily. He could not let these emotions weaken his resolve. He would not let anything prevent him from stabbing his rapier into this Alice's chest. Then he felt her warm hand over his own, and he flinched from the humane touch...

And the Hatter's veneer of calm cracked as he jerked backwards, scowling, his entire body taut with sudden outrage.

* * *

"...Tarrant?"

I dropped my outstretched hand and stumbled towards his uncertainly, where he crouched, knuckles white upon his cane.

"It's...OK, you don't have to be wary of me...I'm just...I haven't seen you for so long I — "

"Silence!" he bellowed, pulling his cane apart baring the long, thin sword hidden within. "Begone with you, foul woman!"

A lesser warrior wouldn't have had the speed to swing his blade as his heart broke into pieces, but I managed to raise my weapon in time, and the rapier tip clinked against my weapon.


	26. Tea Served Cold

**Disclaimer: Electronic Arts (EA) and American McGee hold all copyrights to American McGee's Alice**

**Chapter Twenty-Six: Tea ****S****erved Cold**

Tarrant leaned back from the contact and swung his rapier at me, but I ducked.

"Tarrant, we don't have to do this," I said, thrusting my knife vertically in front of me as his sword clashed against it. "_You _don't have to do this. Don't you remember how you treated me with — "

"Shut up! _You_ could stop doing it, and let me run my sword through you!"

"— such tender care and affection every time I came into Wonderland. You came to show me around when I was lost, you comforted me then Chessur or any other Wonderlander took it upon himself to be nasty and bully me, and you — "

"Shut up!" He ran at me, his sword levelled at my chest.

I held my Blade at both ends to deflect the attack, leaving myself vulnerable, and Tarrant promptly threw a kick at my abdomen, knocking me to the ground.

Before I recovered my balance, he launched his sword forward again, wanting to pin me down, but this time I swung first. Sword struck against knife. I lost a handle on my weapon and retreated to a safe distance to readjust.

Grabbing the Ice Wand from my belt, I twirled both weapons in my hands like conductor's batons, scissoring them at his sword, meaning to disarm him. But he brought the rapier down where my weapons met and knocked them away.

"You silly girl. I know you from nowhere. Caring and sharing just doesn't make the man I am. It's — all — about — order!" Tarrant growled, thrusting at me with every word. "Scientific order, precision and accuracy are the rules Wonderlanders ought to guide their lives — _not _miserable emotions! Emotions don't win a war Emotions don't bring you worldly riches. All they contribute to are psychological trauma, an idiotic innate sympathy with another human, and heartbreak when you lose a loved one," he sneered.

My face became more and more steely as he spoke, from anxiously caring to downright perturbed at his nasty barbs.

My attacks increased in pace, but I checked the annoyance, with some difficulty, in my voice as I spoke once again while driving him backwards on his heels. "You _know, _Tarrant. You know that you are not the man you once were, the man you truly are inside. Why do you —"

"Silence!" Tarrant shouted again, and went at me with renewed vigour.

I felt to my slight disquiet that though Tarrant had crafted loathsome weapons and mechanisms of murder and annihilation with his vast intellect alone, he was as used to physical exertion as he had been in the past, when we would race each other to outrun the Bandersnatch we had teased till it chased us crabbily.

His sword collided against my knife without any lessening in force, and the speed of his sallies never slackened.

"I'll tell you why," Tarrant said, countering my lunges with several of his own. "Because the man you said I had once been had _never _existed! Or, if he had, that man saw the light, saw the way, saw that he ought to be stronger to dare, to remove emotions from the equations, to achieve what I have now achieved!"

I tripped over a clock hand and fell, hard. Tarrant foisted his sword down at me and I, flat on my back, spun my Wand and knife parallel to my body and knocked it away, somersaulted backwards and regained my feet.

"That's where you're wrong. The true Tarrant is a better man, a cleverer man, who dreamed of the terrible things he could have done with his brains and turned away from those thoughts in revulsion, in favour of righteousness! And I know that that man lives within you, and only — "

"Lies! You mean to say that he was too weak, too spineless to dare to live those dreams, too cowardly to take what could have been his, what will be mine!"

I continued to parry his increasingly manic attacks when I saw something metal flash on his neck as he pivoted on his heel to avoid a knife thrust: a hexagonal patch of reddish metal, and I heard Chessur speak. _I see it now! That chip is an abominable device of the Red Queen. It is controlling Tarrant, corrupting his thoughts, causing him to collaborate with the Red Queen in contributing to Wonderland's ruination! Crush it before it destroys us all!_

_Yes, that's urgent,_ I thought back, _but I'm a little caught up with something now. Couldn't you create some kind of chance for me?_

Out of thin air, Chessur pounced for Tarrant's throat.

Seeing the new threat, he yelled, "Not even you will deny me, Chessur!" He turned to slash at my companion, who instantly vanished, allowing me to grab the flashing chip and rip it away from his neck in bloody curds.

* * *

He remembered jabbing his rapier at Chessur, that annoyance of a beast who had dared to intrude on his duel just as he was about to finish Alice off.

He remembered strangely dainty fingers digging into his neck in the space of his switch in concentration, and the sudden searing sensation he felt as they ripped _something _away.

Something that he hadn't known, or had forgotten had existed there before.

And with the force of a cannon blast, he remembered _everything.

* * *

_

"_We will always be together, in times of good fortune or bad, and will never be apart." _

_Those were words, spoken to him when she was eight, in jest and were, of course, the words of a young girl whose concept of forever was the length of time from today to the Tuesday after next. _

_But as he lay on the verdant grass, looking at her pixie face, ensconced with sleek, brown hair that laid out in delightful ripples on the Frabjous Lawn, he truly wanted to believe it, that he could live with this young girl from the Upper Air for all eternity, to make that hair his responsibility to protect from any harm, to see that hair turn gray with age together with his in future years. _

_He interlaced her fingers with his, looking into her emerald green eyes almost drunkenly, and said, "Yes, we will." Then she would beam at him in pure bliss, and stare dreamily as wispy clouds passed overhead. _

"_Don't you wish, Tarrant, that we could just stay like this forever, staring at the sky, without a worry in the world?" _

"_Why, Alice, I can't imagine that your worries could be any more than mine. Of course I do!"

* * *

_

"Chessur, oh dear, he's losing so much blood, what have I done?"

"Drat! Nothing to do with you, Alice, if it's anyone's fault it's mine. That devious Red Queen must have attached the chip to his carotid, making sure that if it is removed, death would come quickly enough for her converted man to be of no use to the one who removed the chip — and there I was egging you on, to just reach out and pluck it off. Terrible oversight on my part."

"Well, what can we do now? We have to save him. After this much suffering I'm not going to lose him again!" I said, heaving the Hatter's surprisingly light body in my arms, blood cascading through my fingers, over my arms, staining my dress.

"I can't help, I'm not familiar with the medical facilities of this factory, so — "

We shifted our gaze up, alert.

Crystal Cyborgs were entering the MAD in droves, converging onto the arena where I had restored the one I loved, and if we didn't act soon, and the place where he could leave me forever. His automatons were my last hope.

I dropped to my knees heavily, offering the bleeding body. "Help us! Save your master!"

The lead Crystal Cyborg, probably a General of his mechanical army, looked from me to the Hatter with unblinking glassy eyes for a maddeningly long time, weighing priorities in his robotic mind, while Tarrant's time ticked away.

"He's in mortal danger. We need medical aid for him, right _now!_" Something in my plea seemed to awake a part of the unfeeling general. The last sliver of his humanity? Whatever it was, he walked down towards me, and took Tarrant's body from my hands.

Turning to his troops, he commanded that a stretcher be brought to help lift the Hatter, before reading me without any expression on his face.

"He's lost a lot of blood," the Crystal Cyborg observed. "I am not hopeful."

"You _will _save him. You will have to."

"We will do our best to. He made us what we are," replied the Crystal Cyborg tonelessly.

Was I supposed to read it as faint gratitude, or a cold observation laced with sarcasm? I wasn't sure. But it didn't matter. Tarrant's life was all in their hands now.

* * *

"_We__ will always be together, in time of good fortune or bad, and will never be apart." _

_In times of darkness, when he led his __CAT__s against the brutal engineerings of the Red Queen, in what he knew would be a losing war, he drew upon those words, a promise in a more innocent time, by an infinitely more carefree and innocent girl. _

"_Fire!" he commanded, and his robotic army, working to defend one of the last defensive outpost of the Hearts Resistance, pumped plasma rifles at the multitudes of Card Soldiers, firing slugs of burning destruction and death. But it was futile. Finally the odds were stacked too high against him, and The Cat himself captured the Hearts Resistance's most talented man, throwing him before the Red Queen. _

"_I have always admired someone of your abilities, so dangerous you were working against my regime," she purred. "A great shame it would be if I killed you, so..." _

_She lunged forward, and stabbed something into his neck. He cried out, and saw, with growing terror, a malignant patch at the corner of his mind, eating away at his thoughts like a ravenous fiend, replacing them with evil intentions of torture and massacre, and before he lost his mind altogether, he screamed, "Alice!"_


	27. Fallen Angel

**Disclaimer: Electronic Arts (EA) and American McGee hold all copyrights to American McGee's Alice**

**Chapter Twenty-S****even****: Fallen Angel**

Hatter Tarrant Hightopp's body had endured many kinds of pain, and yet the searing heat of the wound on his neck felt profoundly foreign to him. Deep and grave. Not a wound of the flesh...but closer to the soul.

Alice had torn out the blackened, corrupted part of the soul that the Red Queen had devilishly planted. His soul had been brought back from the brink, but why did it hurt so much...?

He opened his eyes, trying to see, but the pain and the dust in the factory blurred his vision.

_Where am I?_

He could feel himself lying on a cold, flat metal surface, supporting his limp body, his custom-made nanoweave coat flapping. Lifting a weary arm, he mopped his eyes, and the familiar heart-shaped face, framed by slightly unruly but still beautiful brunette hair, enter his vision.

"He's awake!"

He heard her delighted but worried cry. He ventured around with his hands and found hers, clasping the small but rough palms, so skilful with knife as they were with comforting his tangled emotions.

He saw the ugly gash of a wound, inflicted by his cruel blade in the duel, stretching from chin to cheekbone.

Those alluring green eyes were focused only on him and him alone, tears streaming down her blood-spattered face. Appalled at the hurt he had caused the woman he loved, he extended one manicured finger to trace the line of the slash delicately. "My love," he whispered, "you're hurt."

* * *

Tarrant was unconscious when the doors of the medical wing of his munitions factory slid open. I lurched into the entryway, flanked by a tight squad of Crystal Cyborgs, almost delirious with exhaustion. I cried aloud for a doctor to some immediately, my voice a heartrending wail of agony.

Then his eyes fluttered rapidly, his fingers tensed, and he screamed my name.

"He's awake!" I gasped, to anyone who might be listening, and I grasped his moving hands, interlocking fingers with him.

His gaze locked onto me, and I saw in his eye my face, a visage contorted in anguish. He raised his long, pale index finger to caress my cheek, fingernail grazing the long slash I had received from the duel back at the MAD. It was still fresh, and though even his tender touch stung, I held the pain inside myself, for fear of causing his already shattered condition more emotional trauma.

"My love," he whispered, "you're hurt."

My breath nearly stopped. It was the first time he had openly displayed his feelings for me. And I was heartbroken to think that the first time he did so could well be his last — not because of the treacherous manipulations of the Queen, but by my own careless hand.

"I am so very sorry," I choked, too pained to say any more.

With a shocked look in his eyes, he shook his head slowly in fervent denial.

"No, Alice. It is I who am sorry. This is all my fault."

* * *

_The Queen promised me there would be no more killing. That peace would be restored, and thousands of lives spared, if I just gave up mine to her. _

"I was too eager. Too fearful. And the Queen played me like a pawn."

_I was deceived, and the repercussions were grave. Countless deaths on my head! Maybe it would be better I died. _

From her confused expression through the mask of grief he knew she had no idea what he was talking about, had no idea of the constant bloodshed in the few years after the violent ascension of the new monarch. But she didn't need to. Not yet.

* * *

"Tarrant, promise me that you will live. I've fought too hard, suffered too much to save you. You can't leave, do you hear me?"

Alice had his fingers in a death-grip, and he thought even the hounds of hell would not make her let them go. She'd grown so strong in the decade that Wonderland had missed her. That he'd missed her.

And he knew, that though in the last five years he had lived a heinous living death no better than a mindlessly killing automaton, there was now someone who cared deeply for him, who prayed for his survival, and who he would have sacrificed everything for.

He realised all this, realised that she was his reason to continue living, as well as the fact that the Red Queen would have to pay dearly for making him submit to her bloodthirsty will, to commit such atrocities in her name.

"I promise," he replied, an ardent promise of hope, love and vengeance, as they wheeled him into the operation room.

* * *

"How is he?" I had nearly nodded off, seated on the polished tiled floor with my back to the whitewashed walls, while Chessur paced slowly up and down the corridor, when the white coated Crystal Cyborg doctor opened the doors and stepped out of the Intensive Care Unit.

He regarded me pensively, searching his augmented brain for an appropriate response.

"We did our best, of course," he replied detachedly.

My heart plummeted. It was always either vegetation or death when the doctor said that in the programs I had seen my mother cry her heart out over before her untimely demise.

"Although that was not actually necessary, as we soon found out," he continued, snapping me out of my depression.

"Wait...what do you mean?"

"He'd injected a prototype dosage of nano-machines that would activate and repair his body in the case where grievous damage occurs. As it was, they worked perfectly as we did, and are producing sufficient blood to renew what amount had been lost as we speak. Therefore, he is officially out of danger and you may — "

I didn't wait for him to finish. Bursting into the room, I saw Tarrant resting on a clean, pink standard hospital-issue bed, his eyes half closed and a serene expression on his face, hands clasped over his midriff, with whatever colour he'd lost flowing back into his face.

I was about to leap forward and hug him tightly, but two pairs of strong arms held me back: one pair muscular and furry, the other cool and robotic.

"Please be quiet, Upper Air girl. The patient still needs time to recuperate fully," ordered the doctor.

"Yes, Alice, Tarrant needs his rest...perhaps you could catch up with him later."

I shrugged off both of them impatiently.

"Alice," warning tones crept into Chessur's usually calm and collected voice.

"I'll wait for him," I said without turning to look at either of them, and flopped onto a hard chair beside the bad. There was a lapse of silence while the two ruminated my decision.

Then the door clicked shut.

* * *

With his conscience back, the souls of the various Wonderlanders he had murdered in cold blood over the half decade had started a vendetta to torment him, to drive him out of his mind for real when he went to sleep.

He recalled that in the nightmare, he was leading Crystal Cyborgs against the last remnant of the Hearts Resistance he had once served loyally.

He saw the terror and betrayal in the rebels' eyes when they saw the general of this overwhelming force.

He had ran forward, and tried to stop this callous version of the Hatter (No, he reminded himself, this _was _the Hatter) but in this dream he was a ghost, nothing more than a wisp, and could only watch helplessly as the Crystal Cyborgs cut down the innocent bystanders and rebels alike, punished for nothing more than a noble cause with their lives.

Then the conquering army marched past the closed doors and abandoned shops lining Liberation Lane, the residents either spending their time cowering in fear until the Crystal Cyborgs had left, or gone into hiding in the Desolation Deserts long ago.

He gazed at the broken and torn bodies of the resistance fighters and wept.

Then suddenly, as one, ethereal imagos rose from the dead rebels' mouths, forming spirits having faces contorted with rage and hungry for retribution.

Each wraith turned towards him, and approached menacingly. He had held out his rapier in a futile attempt to defend himself.

"You would kill us again, Tarrant Hightopp? Oh, but then, we're _already _dead. Too bad, huh?"

Their sarcastic amusement pierced his bleeding heart harder than any weapon could. Then they had surrounded him, making no move to attack, but they _whispered_.

They whispered in his ears about the horrible deeds he had done, about what a despicable man he was, and how terribly he had treated his former allies.

They continued whispering, even after he had broken down, sinking to his knees and begging forgiveness, which they gleefully denied, forcing him to admit that he deserved a thousand times, a million times of what they had suffered, that he would be unable to make up for what he had done in this life, and the next, and the next...

It was sheer torture.

He tried tearing his ears out, to block off the insidious whispers, but they continued _inside his head — _what could he do? He wept and snivelled, he pleaded and sobbed, until —

Alice came like a storm, dispelling the spirits, and scooped him up gently in her strong arms, hugging him tightly, giving him the love and comfort he sorely needed.

But the whispers started anew, and he turned disbelievingly to see that the gash he had inflicted had widened greatly, and blackened like the plague, resembling a bottomless pit, and it was from there the whispers came again, only even worse because it was Alice's voice, her sweet voice and acerbic tongue hissing those vitriolic words, and it burned, burned him from inside out to hear the woman he loved hate him so badly, he —


	28. Paradise Lost

**Disclaimer: Electronic Arts (EA) and American McGee hold all copyrights to American McGee's Alice**

**Chapter Twenty ****Eight****: Paradise Lost**

He opened his eyes, hyperventilating, and his heartbeat fast and erratic.

Balling his fists, he felt that they were cold and clammy.

It was pitch-dark all around him, and for a moment he thought he had ended up in hell like he deserved for the atrocities he had committed. In one of those isolation chambers reserved especially for his kind, so he could drive himself insane listening to no one and talking with no one except the whisperings of those he killed, of Alice, of his conscience.

But there was a movement beside his bed, and he whipped his head around to see _her _head, the brown hair rippling on the mattress the same way it had on the lawn a lifetime ago, and he knew than that he was still alive, still had a chance to repent. He was about to stroke her head when it suddenly snapped up, and with his enhanced vision he could count every single one of the dark-red blood vessels lining the corners of her eyes.

Without a word, Alice threw her arms around him and sobbed.

"There, there, Alice, it's OK, everything's going to be fine," he soothed, comforting her, patting her back in a fatherly manner despite his inner turmoil.

"But...Tarrant, I couldn't sleep all night. Every time my eyes closed, I couldn't help but think you were — "she gulped back tears.

Forcing a smile, he lifted Alice's tear-stained chin. "Ah, but I'm not! Aren't I here? Aren't we both fine? Of course we're alright! But Alice, look at those red, bloodshot eyes — you need to take a good rest. I need to talk to the doctor."

* * *

I hugged him harder, refusing to let go. "No, I'm quite fine, I've lived so many years without sleeping well, and I'm nearly nocturnal. Besides," I said shyly, "_we _need to talk."

"Yes," purred Chessur from the darkness. "We _do._"

Both of us turned warily. "...Chessur?"

Tarrant snapped his fingers to bring on the lights, and there was my feline companion seated complacently on Tarrant's other side, all claws extended, a dangerous expression on his face.

"Explain," he ordered. "The madness you have caused, and how the Red Queen managed to plant that device on you. I know a thing or two about mind-control devices, and what the Queen used wasn't something you can just stick on a passerby along the street."

Tarrant glanced at both of us nervously, and sighed. "Yes. It was my fault. Entirely." He took a deep breath...

...and began to tell his dreadful story.

* * *

After the last time Alice had left, reports began coming in from Looking Glass Land.

Troubling reports.

Red Pieces were becoming more violent in their attacks against White, but the Red Queen herself seemed to have disappeared, leaving the scheming Red King in total control of the Chessboard Realm.

Then there were the appalling environmental disasters: Mine floors had exploded upwards over a week, leaving behind dangerous pools of bubbling acid that shaved decades off the lifespan of the average miner.

Firestorms of unforeseen size and intensity scourged large sections of the country, reducing these to burned, wrecked landscapes of forbidding rock and flowing lava.

Famine and droughts wrought the citizens, and it seemed that Wonderland itself was tearing itself apart.

The King and Queen of Hearts, talented as they may be, were hardly able to tend to every single problem satisfactorily, and the other Ruling Houses: Axe-wielding Clubs, ACE-toting Diamonds or Spade Guards armed with metal staffs that fired destructive energy orbs.

But the Heart troops proved superior to all these threats, whether in fighting skills or equipment, and tension simmered for a year. Lords and Ladies claimed the attacks were instigated by one troublemaking renegade general within their ranks; Wonderland was still under tentative control.

However, no one saw what should have been the inevitable: in the midst of all the chaos, infighting and near anarchy, the Red Queen struck. Leading her chess pieces, they cut a bloody swathe through Wonderland, exterminating anyone that presumed to stand in her way without mercy.

Storming into the Throne Room where the King and Queen of Hearts were, as usual, in heated discussion with the Clubs', Diamonds' and Spades' ruling representatives, she threw thunderbolts from her sceptre to smite the Heart Guards, then attacked the Heart monarchs, crushed them both in a closely fought battle, and proclaimed herself Queen. All in a day's work for the terrifyingly brilliant, megalomaniacal dictator that the Red Queen had become.

_He_ had been approached by the Hearts Resistance a year later. He, Tarrant Hightopp, content to do as he pleased and hold tea parties of varying extravagance all day long, had been persuaded to take up arms against the despotic Red Queen.

But once he plunged his heart and soul into the war effort, he soon found that he seemed born to be a weapons master. Complex tools of obliteration came into existence by the dozens at his clever hands, to the awe of fellow rebels and enemies alike. He even constructed the powerful, efficient CAT strike force with the limited resources available to him, greatly superior to any Card Soldier or Chess Piece.

With his outstanding expertise, it seemed that the Heart Resistance could turn the tides at last. But the crafty Queen ensured their downfall with greed. High-ranking generals in the Resistance were bought out. Though Tarrant always hid well enough to evade the Queen's glib tongued Spade Agents, their strongholds fell one by one to well-placed assaults that exploited defensive weaknesses exposed by bribed generals, or entire platoon becoming turncoats and giving up territory without any fighting.

Eventually, in an intense battle off Bandersnatch Boulevard, the Chess Pieces crushed his CATs and annexed his factory, while The Cat captured the most illustrious general of the Resistance at last.

"_Excellency, we have brought the Hatter." _

There was an unintelligible answer, then the curtains between the brilliantly lighted doorway and the chamber beyond were drawn aside by an unseen hand, and he was facing a dark chamber, at the end of which stood a tall, thin figure dressed in ostentatiously embroidered robes of black. The shadows cloaked his face and outfit entirely.

"_Who are you? The Red Queen? Or do I have to call you Your Imperial Viciousness?" _

"_You will have to do neither," a deep man's voice answered, "though it is good to remember that when you see her. I am the Lord of Spades, and am but the humblest of Her Imperial Viciousness's servants." _

Tarrant now saw the obvious Suit symbol sewn into his flowing cape. _"What do you want with me?" _

"_I don't like beating about the bush. We'll come straight to the matter at hand. What her Imperial Viciousness suggests is this. You will join the ranks of her esteemed armed force together with your Automatons, as part of the Internal Security Force. Your expertise would be highly valued in our war against the Heart Resistance. Of course, your...assistance will be duly rewarded." _

"_I shall do no such thing," _he had asserted vehemently.

"_The consequences of refusal will be disagreeable." _

"_Damn your consequences." _

"_The alternative might be death!" _

Tarrant had chuckled at his ultimatum-like tone._ "It is no good threatening me, or bullying me. Save your threats for spineless cowards." _

"_My threats are very real ones, Tarrant Hightopp. I ask you again, will you join us?" _

"_I will not. Kill me, then! I do not fear death!" _

"_As you wish." _The Lord of Spades clapped his hands crisply. Two Spade Guards appeared out of the blue, and pinioned him by both arms. They dragged him across the floor to a spot in one corner of the big chamber. One of them stooped, and without the least warning, the flooring gave beneath his feet.

But for the restraining hand of the other Guard, Tarrant Hightopp should have gone down the yawning gap below. He could see grim metre-long spikes protruding from the bottom, as black as the symbol printed on the Spade Guards' armour.

"_Think well, Tarrant Hightopp. If you refuse again, you go headlong to eternity, to meet your death in the pit below. For the last time, _will _you join us?" _

He was not braver than most men, detesting the very notion of hand-to-hand combat, usually content to let his machines of war do the dirty deed while he himself would draw up battle plans in boardroom meetings. Rarely had he found himself staring down death in the face, like he was now. The Lord of Spades meant business, he was sure, and it was to be his final goodbye to good old Wonderland.

His voice wobbled as he answered. "For the last time, no! To hell with you!"

Then involuntarily he had closed his eyes and braced himself for the horror of that breath-choking fall. But to his surprise the Lord of Spades gasped the honorific title of Wonderland's current ruler, and he had been hauled back up to face the portrait perfect face of the Red Queen.

"_You are a brave man, Tarrant," she said sweetly. "It is one of the many things that I appreciate about you. That brings us to the appointed second act of your little drama. Death for yourself, you have faced — will you face death for another?"_

"_What do you mean?" _he had asked hoarsely. _"I guess you should direct your attention to the crystal screens. I've scheduled a bit of entertainment for us." _The Red Queen gave the nod, a Pawn dialled in what was wanted, and half of the screens displayed scenes of Wonderland's chaotic streets while the other were of dark, gritty, prison...or asylum cells.

"_This," _The Red Queen said, pointing at the screens on the left half with her sceptre, "_is real time, Mr. Hightopp. Wonderland's streets at the present moment. Keep your eyes on it and be still." _

On screen, Rooks were pummelling Wonderlanders; Knights were running lances through bodies with savage amusement; Pawns hacked the limbs off innocent civilians for no other reason than to main and kill.

But his attention was captured by the other screens, which showed Wonderlanders submitted to various equipment of torture: spiked racks and intestinal cranks, brazen bulls and wooden horses, knee splitters and thumb screws.

"_You must have known by now, that I amuse myself in my spare time by devising __n__ew and ingenious methods of torture — " _

"_You fiend!" _he had cried. _"You wouldn't do that to those bystanders. They have done nothing, not — " _

"_Shall I recount to you some of my devices?"_

Without listening to his yell of protest, her speech flowed on — evenly, serenely — while she watched the screens insatiably, unmistakeably deriving enormous pleasure from them, until with a howl of horror he clapped his hands to his ears.

"_It is enough, I see. Join us." _

"_You would not dare — " _

"_Your speech is foolishness, and you know it." She tittered. "Join my Army. Your esteemed skills will not go to waste, for how can the materials the Heart Resistance is able to salvage compare to what I can provide?" _

"_If I do?" _

"_Then the indiscriminate killing and torture stops at once." _

"_How do I know if you will keep faith with me?" _

"_I swear it to you on the sacred tombs of the founder of these lands." _

"_Very well." _His lips trembled, knowing that despite the price of refusal, and the fact that he was doing it for the welfare of hundreds, no, thousands of Wonderlanders, it remained a despicable act._ "I — and my army — swear fealty to you." _

_A grimace of satisfaction spread across the Queen's face, and he realised that she was trying to smile. "I have always admired someone of your abilities, so dangerous you were working against my regime," _She purred and he had to fight the instinct to run as far as possible from her repellent face. _"Such a shame to kill such a talent, though, so..."_


	29. Best Laid Plans

**Disclaimer: Electronic Arts (EA) and American McGee hold all copyrights to American McGee's Alice**

**Chapter Twenty Nine: Best Laid Plans**

"And so the nightmare of Wonderland that was the Mad Hatter began," ended Chessur, understanding dawning in his voice.

"Yes. I am utterly, completely ashamed. I was deceived." As the most prominent representative of the dark new era of Wonderland, he had designed Crystal Cyborgs, the vicious Royal Flush, and even more horrific devices of torment, working to bring about the very deaths that he thought his allegiance would prevent.

"Tarrant, we all make mistakes in our life. I won't deny that it wasn't your fault, but you did it with the best of intentions. You just ... screwed a little."

"Committing genocide and exterminating the people I swore to protect is a slight screw-up?"

I shrugged, unperturbed. "Hey, Accidents happen."

He smiled thinly at me. "You always had a sense of humour, Alice."

"One of us needed one, Tarrant."

He nodded, and got up rather shakily.

"My liege, you should not be moving so soon after such a serious injury," advised the Crystal Cyborg nurse sternly. However, Tarrant simply waved her concerns aside, picking imaginary lint from his coat. "Override all commands for my health, or we all won't have one to worry about soon, nurse – I need to install the experimental SEP field without delay, or we will all be in mortal danger. I presume a lot, but I won't presume so much as to hope that the Queen hasn't installed a tracking system in my mind-control device just to see if I've been fooling around with it."

* * *

"With gratitude, I offer you my services," said the emancipated Razerious, lowering his golden beak towards me.

"Now, we aren't forgetting who actually did the releasing, are we?"

"Well, since you were the one who imprisoned me in the first place, I think it only right that you free me. I don't owe you anything," retorted Razerious, shooting a dirty look at Tarrant.

"You should only promise what you're able to deliver: I am destined, it seems, to battle the Red Queen. The outcome is bleak and uncertain at best," I warned.

Razerious gazed at me steadily. "You will not fight alone. Allow me to be your field marshal. I shall rally those in Wonderland to stand up behind you, whose allegiance your bravery and intrepid have already won. With the robotic troops of the Hatter, battalions of disgruntled, suppressed Wonderlanders, I am not sure we do not have a chance against the Red Queen,"

"Encouraging, to say the least. But how shall we prepare for war?"

"Putting an end to the Red Queen depends on whether we can penetrate the magical demarcation barrier encircling Queensland, situated at the heart of Wonderland's Urbanised Sectors. Only the complete Jabberwock Eye Staff can pry the barrier open. Do you have two pieces of the staff?"

"What do they look like?" interjected Tarrant.

"One is a ...hooked brass rod, I should think. The other is an intricately crafted crystal of the highest quality... I can't even come close to describing it ..."

"A gem like this?" Tarrant had detached what I thought was one of his silver buttons, but as he held it up to the light we could see from its multifarious facets that it had to be the item Razerious sought.

"Perfect. The Staff lacks only the Jabberwock's eye. Though he has two, I understand he's fond of them both. I doubt time will change his mind, so we need to make haste and enter the Land of Fire and Brimstone to seek out that foul beast. Together, we will right the wrongs of this Queendom, and save Wonderland. But before we proceed, we should arm ourselves. The Land where the Jabberwock rules supreme is dangerous at best. Jabberspawn infest the volcanic landscape, along with hordes of Fire Imps and the heat-loving Magma Monsters. He himself is almost invincible, and stronger than the previous incarnation that was slain by ... hang on, he _was_ supposed to be dead... until three years ago. According to fuzzy accounts it would seem that he's a kind of Automaton now, with elaborate life support systems and mechanical parts keeping him alive..."

Tarrant's shoulders slumped. "I know. I made him." With a group of necromancers, specialized dark Arcane practitioners, life had been forced into the dismembered Jabberwock long enough for Tarrant to fit in his machines and bring the Red Queen's most dangerous hound back to life. "Razerious is right. Fortunately, this is a munitions factory for a reason.

From the long tables cluttered with welding tools and cogs and assorted metal scraps, to the virtual-screens covered with scribbled formula, Tarrant's lab at the munitions factory looked hardly the place where Wonderland's most proficient inventor wedded theoretical physics and mathematics to practical application, engaged in the evolution of weapon's technology, devoting time to create instruments of death and destruction. But it was here that the prototypes of nearly every gadget in Wonderland, for the last ten years, had been conceived, designed, built and tested – ACEs and plasma rifles, Crystal Eyes and Royal Flush Soldiers, Crystal Cyborgs and CATs.

"How to begin," Tarrant was saying, "when there's so much in the final stages of development?"

Under the watchful eyes of his three companions, he picked up the nearest object at hand – something resembling the small limb of a cactus.

"This is a metal devil. It creates what its name indicates after impact...any of you seen a dust devil before?" Both the Gryphon and Chessur said "Yes," while I shook my head.

In explanation, he tossed the metal devil into an adjoining room, the floors and walls of which were scarred and pock marked with previous weapons tests, its ceiling marred by scorch marks. An imposing tornado of metal shrapnel formed, almost three metres high. The shards whipped about and ripped at the walls and ceilings violently.

"We'll take as many of those as you've got," I said before it petered out, not alone in my appreciation.

He then demonstrated the rustier-critters, a glass ball of nana-machines so perverse to metal they would consume an entire CAT in less than a minute, the electro-net cannon that fired nets of steel at the target, which would conduct paralysing pulses of electricity though any biological matter that came in contact with it, the Atomizer, which sent shock waves that weakened the intermolecular bonds so greatly even rock or metal would shatter with a punch.

The three of us loaded upon these and other accessories: miniature grapple hook launchers, Crystal Eyes, and Gravity-Altering Gloves , which gave the items it carried an artificial gravity field that could be altered until the held object was of a comfortable weight.

"I will stay here to re-program my army to recognize the proper enemy."

"All and well. I will take Alice to the land of Fire and Brimstone. Take care and take heart."

Tarrant gasped. "But that's ... the motto of the Hearts Resistance."

"It is so," confirmed Razerious, "and now the Hearts Resistance will be reborn. If all goes well, I will see you and Alice in the battlefield, to fight together once again for Wonderland's freedom. We say good bye for now."

* * *

"Your Imperial Viciousness,"

"Yes? Have you received word from the Hatter?"

The Lady of Clubs hesitated. Such out bursts were quite rare coming from the almost always callous Queen of Wonderland. Granted, she had neither raised her voice nor made any observable motion, but for her to ask, no matter how indifferently, for the Hatter even before the Lady of Clubs had explained her business in the Throne Room shouted volumes of concern and almost longing for the weapons master.

Perhaps the hours long private meetings involved much more than discussions of work and designs?

But the mere thought that the Red Queen herself could ostensibly form an emotional bond with someone else was alien, unacceptable, much like stating that a fire could be started from ice shavings.

"_Have_ you received word from the Hatter?"

"I am sorry, Your Imperial Viciousness," said the Lady of Clubs, hastily dropping to one knee, the picture of complete subservience, "as of the last solar cycle there has been no notice by crystal communicator, Crystal Eye transmissions or Crystal Cyborg patrol."

"Of course not, you miserable excuse for a secret service agent, all these spying methods were invented and perfected by the Hatter's own hand! Pulling the wool over your eyes would be as easy as a clock-work for a person of his calibre, if you rely too much on these devices. Don't you have any other reliable way of getting news of him?"

"Wouldn't suffice to just use your all-seeing Arcane Eye to scour the lands?" Once the words were out of her mouth, the Lady of Clubs regretted them. She did not know where the sudden feelings of defiance had come from. Perhaps it was the implied insult in the Red Queen's words, but others had been killed for less than questioning the Queen. The Club's matron bowed her head, fearful, fully expecting a shocking bolt of red energy to impale her any moment.

"Don't be an idiot! Did it not occur to you that I might have attempted searching for him myself? And that if it had worked, would I have had to turn to your inferior department, surely lacking in Arcane skills of any kind, to seek him out?"

The Lady of Clubs heaved a sigh of relief she hadn't realised she'd been holding. It seemed that the loss of Hatter was affecting the Red Queen in more ways than one – luckily for her. "Our Club soldiers' reports tally in that Hatter's weapons factory seems to have vanished altogether. But I am sure that he cannot hide for so long without escaping Your Imperial Viciousness's especial wrath. One way or another, I promise, we will find the Hatter."

"Well then, don't just stand there looking completely useless! Get cracking! Let loose the Bandersnatch, Jujub Birds, and Manxome Foxes, whatever, just so long as you find him! And do remember," reminded the Queen in her usual icy tone, "between yours and his, I don't really discriminate. But I'm quite sure whose head you'd prefer to see seated safely on the shoulders at the end of the day."

* * *

Running an entire realm was a difficult job.

A meticulous job.

A woman's job and a woman job_ alone_.

No one ever got things done when men presumed to interfere with politics and stick their thick monkey fingers into the careful systems of governance drawn up by women. Take the late Queen of Hearts, for example, who with the impediment in the form of her klutz of a husband, caused Wonderland to fall into anarchy and complete ruin, almost inviting her to take over at a moment's notice.

Or perhaps her own failure in choosing a life partner, resulting in his downfall and the triumph of her sister's troops in Looking Glass Land, which she assured herself, would only be a temporary victory, if things went well. Platoons of Red Chess Pieces, protected in bubbles of Arcane–proof deflective energy, were on their way to retake control of Looking Glass Land, and Pale Royals or no, their Arcane knowledge would prove useless in the face of the new Mana-draining weapons she had constructed specially for this cause.

If things were going her way, she would soon seek out that trouble-making Upper Air Girl and crush her like a cockroach with her own Arcane might.

If things were going her way, she could soon wed the handsome Tarrant Hightopp. _He _was a man who wouldn't let her down. After all, what will he had remaining in that cold heart of his was all hers. Except —

Things were _not _going as planned. And she had a sneaking suspicion that it all boiled down to the Upper air girl's presence here in Wonderland. She called up her personal virtual map of Wonderland and Looking Glass Land, with sections highlighted in various colours to show clearly the regions under her complete domination, those of questionable devotion and those in clear rebellion.

The latter's territory had never been a nano-portion larger than the area generously allotted to the White Pieces, but events in the recent week had changed things.

A lot.

Firstly, the news of a violent revolt at several Crystal Mines, those populated mostly by gnomes. Somebody urged them to rise up and Club Cards guarding those mines were suddenly overwhelmed by peevish miners fighting their way to freedom, some calling the name of the Upper Air girl like a battle-cry: "Alice! Rise up and throw off these repressive shackles! Fight and live in the name of Alice, the finder of the key!" She wasn't sure what the "key" was, but it had been inspirational enough to trigger the uprising of the mines, which in itself was unforgivable.

Then the body of the Cook had been found, with only half a head left on her neck. The bestial fangs that had replaced her teeth were evidence enough that the Lord of Clubs had successfully twisted her personality to be her bloodthirsty pawn in her plan to eliminate the Duchess, but it appeared that he had over-dosed the blood thirsty quotient: apparently, her hunger had overrode all other matters, including the order to bring the Duchess to her immediately.

Probably served her right for entrusting the task to a man.

And now, in the space of a mere two days, the Red King had been slain, the realm of Looking Glass taken over, while the Hatter had vanished, literally.

She extended her Arcane Aura over the digitized map and cast her Arcane Eye over the Queendom, attending to another troubling matter. That the assassin-for-hire could turn on and off his visage like electric lights was already annoying enough, but the Hatter had somehow done that trick not only on himself, but the entire munitions factory. Also, the Upper Air girl was curiously non-existent to her Arcane observations, though her presence was clearly felt by the card Guards slain upon her arrival.

Both her greatest ally and most threatening adversary were off the map, and it troubled her greatly. Wanting to reassure herself that her Arcane skills had not diminished, she gathered a black cloud above her head, crackling with jags of lightening, and den gulfed herself with a tornado of blood-hued energy. Gathering all the Arcane power into a glowing orb, she thrust it at the stone floor before her throne.

_Boooooshhhhchchchchch crash!_ It detonated against the ground, leaving behind an enormous, smoking crater. Waving her sceptre, the Red Queen reformed the ruby-and-obsidian checkerboard pattern, without any evidence of the damage done just moments ago.

Nothing wrong with her then, quite obviously, which meant the sooner she sought out that Upper Air girl and performed a cranioectomy on her, the sooner Wonderland could return to its state of ordinance and regularity. She would tear her flesh apart and scatter it to the Boojums. Her head would be pinned upon a long spike at the front of her castle, as an example to any aspiring revolutionary who dared go against her, no matter how learned in the Arcane Arts. Her memory would be defiled, despised, twisted, by the useful workers in the Lady of Spades' Ministry. She would make it a capital crime to speak the name "Alice" aloud, even.

Yes, she would do all that and more, just punishment for a mere Upper Air Girl who had managed to wreak so much damage on her Queendom.

She consulted the map again, tracing the path Alice had taken through Wonderland.

The accursed Gnome shanties.

Looking Glass Land.

The last known spot that had been the Hatter's munitions factory.

The Red King and the Hatter down.

Where could she be headed to next?

"Red Knight," she ordered over her crystal communicator. "Take the Eaglets and the Royal Flush to the Land of Fire and Brimstone. I don't want Alice to even lay a finger on the Jabberwocky."


	30. Burning Curiosity

**Disclaimer: Electronic Arts (EA) and American McGee hold all copyrights to American McGee's Alice**

**Chapter Thirty: Burning Curiosity**

I tried to look back, to see where Tarrant was hard at work in the factory, but I knew I couldn't, and was glad of it. For that meant no matter how many soldiers the Queen sent to retake the factory, they couldn't touch something they couldn't even see, because, as Tarrant had said, his factory was now Somebody Else's Problem.

Razerious flew towards the bright mid day sun. "Look around, Alice. Look at how Wonderland has degraded," said Chessur solemnly.

I peered past Razerious's flapping wings and caught glimpses of rivers of red-hat lava; clusters of fossilized magma stalagmites that resembled oversized beds of nails; charred, smoking rocks at the base of bald cliffs, before Razerious suddenly tilted his wings downwards and descended.

Landing on a rare patch of smooth, un-blackened ground, he lowered his back for me to alight, then looked down upon me from his superior height. "Recruit whatever allies you can, Alice. I'll return with reinforcements. We'll need them all to be able to do any damage against the Red Queen. Like I told the Hatter, take care, and take Heart." Thus, saying, he inclined his head to Chessur and flew off above the craggy peaks.

* * *

"What a torturous place."

"You can say that again."

I had never experienced anything like Wonderland's Land of Fire and Brimstone, and I sincerely hoped I never had to again. Wherever I went in this charred region, I inevitably found myself at the base of an active volcano...or two.

My nostrils were polluted with the stink of sulphur, my lungs were scorched by the air, and I constantly had to avoid geysers of murky, noxious gas, jets of flame shooting randomly from the rocky ground and the pits of rivers of boiling lava.

Fortunately I didn't have to contend with the ubiquitous heat of the region, covered up as I was in the special nano weave suit Tarrant had given me before I left. The external temperatures must not have been below a hundred degrees; yet I felt comfortably cool in the two piece long sleeved ensemble which he assured me was also impenetrable to blade, card ammo or energy burst. Though the skin on my uncovered face and hand still prickled rather uncomfortably, I gave a fervent whisper of thanks for the suit.

"Listen," Chessur said abruptly, and as I avoided yet another spray of fire from underground, I did so. Cutting through the low-pitched rumble of eruptions, coming from beyond the cluster of jagged cliff tops in the distance; the intermittent piercing caws of birds of prey. Weapons drawn, Chessur and I weaved carefully behind a thick bunch of stalagmites and crouched.

Against the reddish, ashen sky, a formation of black dots flew. Hovering for sometime above the plain, they began to get closer and then I could see them clearly: eagles, each carrying a man-sized deck of cards.

Flying overhead, they dropped the metal decks onto the rocky ground with a crush before taking off. Then – fwi-fwi-fwi-fwish! — there was the sound of decks un-shuffling and five decks of card soldiers stood ready to fight. Unlike the human Cards Guards though, these Soldiers had solitary red Hearts emblazoned on their black metallic bodies, wielding two-metre long staffs that had a razor sharp heart shaped blade at one end.

"What are those things?" I asked as the robotic Card Soldiers began searching the area. "This is worrying. It's a battalion of the Royal Flush, the Queen's bodyguard troops. Also designed and created by the genius of your beloved Hatter," he added, glancing at me.

Suddenly one Royal Flush soldier turned on his heels, seeming to stare straight at our hiding place. Then he emitted a high electronic shriek, it ran towards us. I erected an Ice Wall, but it cleared that without missing a beat, raising its heart shaped axe to attack, when I struck out with my Blade. It rebounded against the edge, but landed beside us relatively unharmed.

By then the other Royal Flush soldiers had realised that the ones they were searching for were hidden in the midst of the stalagmite formation, and while some charged forwards with axes raised, the others dropped to one knee in a firing position. They shouldered their axes, and I realised the other end of the staff was the hollow bore of a blasting weapon.

Chessur slammed me flat to the ground, seconds before red lasers flew thick and fast at where our heads had been. However the mêlée favouring Royal Flush troops were already upon us. Though we threw rustier-critters that tore through the first wave of the Queen's personal army, the nano-machines eating at their metal bodies like rapacious micro organisms, more came to take their place.

For a moment I thought we had been ambushed, and overrun, that we were going to die hot and abandoned, corpses destined to be the next meal of a pack of vultures (if Wonderland had any) when a blanket of blue smoke descended upon the murderous platoon of Royal Flush Soldiers, and they drooped unconscious, their weapons all clattering to the ground. Then the Wonderland Oracle's mystical voice echoed against the surrounding cliff faces.

"The time of action has arrived; you should not waste a day. No lame excuses do you contrive, nor tolerate delay!"

"Cut the act, Absolem, I know it's you behind that dark hood. Now why don't you remove it so everyone can see you clearly? And why do you talk like I'm on a holiday? Do you think I like wandering about here? Having a bit of fun? Are you an idiot?"

He removed his cloak, and slowly puffed to letters in smoke from his hookah: N-O

"You bizarre creature! I was beginning to like you!"

"Like me or not, but believe me. The Jabberwock must be eliminated—Now. Blow open the gates and confront the Queen."

"I don't have the final piece of the Eye Staff. Without the Jabberwock's eye, how can it be done?"

"I don't know," he admitted, for once. "But, you must. The situation is urgent."

"What good are you to me?" I retorted "I'm supposed to attack this ferocious creature – or so you say, but I'm not even sure if this is my fight."

"It is nobody else's, Alice. Only you can save yourself."

"Save myself? From death, is that it? Is that why I'm here? I'm not afraid to die! At times, I've welcomed death."

"No, Alice. Not death."

"What, then? Something...worse than death? I'm not stupid, Absolem – don't make me think you are."

"Think what you will, but remember this: You withdrew from your world after the fire because you could not bear your terrible loss. When you answered rabbit's call, you began to heal the hurt you have caused yourself and Wonderland. You began to emerge from your tragedy at last. Look around you – you've done so much thus far, saved so many people already. Stay on this path, Alice. Save yourself, and you will save Wonderland. You can restore us all."

I nodded, burdened but understanding. "I understand now. What I've been feeling all this time... it all makes sense now. I broke this world, and only I can repair it."

The Caterpillar smiled. "Go well, Alice. The Jabberwock awaits. With Razerious as your partner, you have reason to hope for success – he's one of the strongest among us." He took a long drag on his hookah, puffing out a long stream of smoke that formed some kind of floating cushion. He clambered onto it, and was about to leave, when he turned to me and gestured with five of his right legs at the inactive Royal Flush platoon. "You should not be here when they wake."

"They should not wake at all," I countered. Absolem did not show approval or disapproval, and make no comments but took to the air on the cloud from his hookah, rising higher and higher. "If all goes well, Alice, and Chessur, we will meet again as steadfast allies for the final battle. For now, take care, and take Heart."

* * *

"You're positive you saw the Gryphon flying free," the Red Queen questioned the Red Knight sternly.

"Without doubt, Your Imperial Viciousness. The Club Guards – what's left of them, at any rate – concur. The Gryphon assaulted the mines at late afternoon, and with his help the Gnomes managed to rout the contingents sent to defend it."

The Queen called up the map disbelievingly, and sure enough, in Darkseid Sector, better known as the Village of the Dammed, was glowing an irksomely bright white.

"Do we need to – "

"No," she said, cutting the Red Knight off hastily, pondering her next move. "Has there been any word from the Royal Flush?"

"None, Your Imperial Viciousness. Wherever the Upper Air girl is, she continues to avoid discovery." There was something unsettled in the Knight's tone.

"But?"

"But – my apologies, Your Imperial Viciousness – a score of the Royal Flush was recently found dead at the border of the Land of Fire and Brimstone. From the manner which they were killed, we believe Chessur was responsible. Other Royal Flush squads have scoured that area but have discovered no sign of her."

With one long, red nail, the Queen cut off the transmission.


	31. Flames of Judgment

Disclaimer: Electronic Arts (EA) and American McGee hold all copyrights to American McGee's Alice

**Chapter Thirty One: Flames of Judgment**

"There it is, Alice. The Jabberwock's lair."

We emerged from a natural terrace of rocks and looked past the bubbling lava pools, Magma monsters and — as though the original version wasn't already bad enough — Lava Snarks lurking within the fiery depths, and the haphazardly placed rock islands populated by the ever-present Fire Imps.

"What the hell…?"

I was expecting a huge rocky cavern. Failing that, an…enormous roost spanning several mountaintops. Whatever went for stereotypes of a dragon's den these days.

But what I now saw on top of the summit of one of the higher precipices was a large scorched mansion, made of the same whitewashed concrete, with the same roof of burnished red tiles, reminding me so much of —

"That's my home."

"Are you quite sure?"

I tilted my head at him, exasperated. "I didn't spend my _entire _life in Rutledge, you know."

"Ah, so you didn't, but still — "

"Hush," I said, and I considered the recognizable design build and even shape of the house. "I don't understand…what would _my _house be doing in Wonderland? Why does the Jabberwock even _live _in it?"

"Neither do I, Alice. He's lived in that ever since the Hatter resurrected him. But we need to keep moving. We cannot fail Razerious, Absolem, and everyone else in Wonderland who's counting on us to slay the Queen's right hand…beast."

"You're right, Chessur. Let's move out!"

I strode forward confidently, but two of the Jabberwock's offspring stood in my path. Definitely not as lethal as their progenitor, but at the height of two men even when crouching, they still had enough in them to pack quite a punch. Seeing me, they bellowed and one of them leapt forward, trying to stomp me into the ground. But I had faced more than my fair share of murderous beasts, and with atypical calm, I avoided the slightest injury from its scratching claws. The other Jabberspawn opened its mouth wide enough to swallow me whole, the smallest of its teeth as large as Chessur's paw, but I jerked backwards, leaving it snapping at the thin, acrid air.

The first beast, knowing I was too quick to take out from close range, was crouching, the many humps on its back blasting steam, and it took a deep breath but instead of exhaling an enormous fireball, two bolts of electricity zapped out from the back of its throat, crackling the air, throwing me off my feet even though my suit had already dissipated most of the lethal currents.

I lifted my Wand, and orbs of glacial energy flew thick and fast towards the Jabberspawn nearest to me; Chessur did his part against the other, bobbing and weaving with impressive speed and agility to dodge the grasping claws of the savage beast. Soon we had finished off both Jabberspawn, but the commotion had drawn the attention of the nearby Fire Imps, who squeaked, and began swimming through the burning lava to attack us, waving their tridents like little versions of Satan.

"I'll take care of these pathetic gremlins, Alice. You concentrate on getting to the Jabberwock. I must warn you, the vile creature's a killer, and even his words wound."

"Don't worry, Chessur. Words can't beat steel no matter how damaging they are," I said, polishing my knife and grabbing my Jacks.

While Chessur clawed the Imps, I began to navigate the maze of islands, heading straight for the Jabberwock's — my — house. Reaching the door, I hesitated, wondering whether to knock on the entrance to my own home. But before I could muster up the courage to face my ancient nightmares, the blackened, oak barrier swung open from the inside, and glaring down at me was the daunting figure of the Jabberwock.

"Ah…we meet again at last. How I have waited so long to exact the vengeance you deserve for causing me such great harm!"

I force myself to stare up at his mangled face. "But I've never met you before."

"I'm not talking to you, insignificant bearer. I was referring to my age-old enemy, the Vorpal Blade!"

It was quite apparent that his last encounter with the weapon I now owned had not gone well — for him. Judging from the amount of machinery working to maintain his biological body, the mutilation and disfiguration he had received at the Vorpal Blade must have had been drastic. I tried to avert my eyes from the glowing arc reactor, worked by twisting cranks, nestled in the gaping wound in his chest, and the wiry, steam-belching constructs supporting his wings.

He shifted his gaze downwards with some difficulty to see who the speaker was. "Why…it's _you. You've_ kept me waiting, Alice. Have you never heard that punctuality's a virtue?" I snorted disbelievingly that this ferocious beast would even care.

"You and my dentist's assistant have much in common."

"You're habitually late, aren't you? Between your din-witted day dreaming and your preening vanity the hours just fly by; there's barely time for anything else."

I gave a short, sharp laugh. "That the best you can do? Hurl second-rate insults? They don't hurt…"

With startling nimbleness, the swooped down on me, his draconian face mere inches away from mine, so close that I could smell his pungent, smoky breath, the rattling of each inhalation like thunder against my eardrums. "Your family was expecting you to come to them, weren't they?" he rasped. "Perhaps they thought you might warn them of the danger, being close to the source as you were. But they waited in vain, didn't they, and died for their trouble!"

I flinched at his harsh words. "We were all asleep — it was an accident, I — "

"You selfish, misbegotten and unnatural child! _You_ smelled the smoke, but you were in dreamland having tea with your friends. _You _couldn't be bothered. _Your _room was protected and spared while your family upstairs roasted in an inferno of incredible horror!"

"_Nooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" _I screamed in anguish, reminded that it was _my _fault that they had died, my fault that my loving parents could never spend more time loving each other, could never walk the face of the earth ever again, that if I had just died, they could have lived, and —

"Oh, Alice! You don't have to worry about not being able to die. You see, that's my job!" While I was still consumed with grief, he batted a strong arm tipped with steel claws at me, tossing me across the (_my parents' house!_) living room. I landed heavily, bouncing once, twice. I heard something crack loudly. My arm, probably, but the hurt I was feeling was too great, too much, for me to pay any attention to it. I closed my eyes, trying to block it off and concentrate on saving my life, but dark figures appeared all around me, cloaked in flames.

I opened my eyes, but instead of the Jabberwock's house I found myself in a room on fire.

_My _room, where it had all started.

The crackling wood clouded my judgment, burned my soul. Then the figures removed their cloaks, and I saw the faces of Mother, and of Father, and of my two departed sisters, and I wept, kneeling before them in penitence, begging for forgiveness. "Dad, Mom, sisters it was my fault! I shouldn't have left you back in the house to burn, it was my — "

"_Alice…Alice…Alice…Alice…Alice…" _A multitude of voices chanted in sepulchral tones, muffling my meaningless pleas.

"We have suffered…so much…for you…" my mother's voice rang out, multiplied by half a dozen times.

I grabbed my head in a frenzy, screaming in the agony of the pain and sorrow that tore through me like wildfire.

Then the Jabberwock loomed out of the shadows and the smoke, and swung his arm through my parents and their doppelgangers, and I could hear every howl magnified a hundred fold as their images dissipated.

"No…" I sobbed. "Don't hurt them…hurt me instead…"

The Jabberwock guffawed spitefully and swept his heavy hand again, leaving me alone with him in the humongous house.

"Please…stop…I'll…I'll do anything, just…stop hurting them."

"Oh, but I don't sense the sincerity in your voice to save the lives of whom you have _already destroyed._ You merely do not want to be burdened by guilt, the guilt of leaving them behind then, the guilt of not being able to lift a finger to help them _now, _despite your proficient fighting skills and so-called courage."

"KILL ME!" _Only death can release me now, from this unimaginable torture, from this — _

"Oh, don't fret, Alice, I'll come to that in due time…but you see, I'm not quite done playing around with you yet…"

I stumbled towards the Machiavellian beast as if possessed, dropping my weapon, holding my hands up in utter supplication, imploring him to end my miserable, undeserved life this instant. Seeing my easy submission, he roared with triumph and reared back, sucking in a huge breath, intending to kill me in a conflagration of the most violent nature, which I _welcomed, _and I prayed that he would end me off quickly, because there was nothing else in this world that could be _worse _than having to listen to those malicious words coming from this creature, nothing else that I would rather —

"Alice! You can't give up so easily!" There was a loud scream of an eagle, or…a gryphon. There was a loud crash from above, and the ceiling was blown open inwards by Razerious' majestic figure, having punched through the roof in an attempt to save me from total ruin.

At the same moment when the Jabberwock shot rolling jets of flame at me, there was a shrieking as a tightly-focused blizzard erupted from Razerious' mouth to cancel out the flames. The Jabberwock snapped at the Gryphon, snarling in fury that his chance to destroy me had been stolen.

But Razerious was quick, and before the Jabberwock realized what he was doing, one of his eyes had been ripped out by the strong claws of the powerful gryphon. Now he roared in shock and pain, and fled through the hole in the roof, the bony protrusions lining his long tail cracking like a whip.

Razerious turned to me. "Quick, Alice. The Eye Staff is yours, the troops are gathered and everything is yours. Y_ou_ are our champion. Lead us to victory in Queensland! I'll help you deal with the Jabberwock." He flapped his wings, ready to take off after the Red Queen's most dangerous pet.

"No, Razerious…I need…Tarrant…please…take me back to the munitions factory." I shuddered, ashamed of my weakness, my shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs. He considered my pitiful state for a long time, before his usually haughty, impassive face softened, and he lowered his back.


	32. Shifting Battlelines

**Disclaimer: Electronic Arts (EA) and American McGee hold all copyrights to American McGee's Alice**

**Chapter Thirty Two: Shifting Battlelines**

"I am sure you are wondering why Her Imperial Viciousness has called an emergency meeting in the Throne room for all the Heads of Administration. There has been a matter that has recently been brought to Her Imperial Viciousness's concern, as it should have been to all of yours. It is the matter of the girl from the Upper Air, known to us as Alice Liddell."

At a nod from his master, The Cat slotted a recording crystal into the projector slot, and a video of Alice slaughtering Club Guards began playing on the screen.

The Ministers all stayed silent at the grisly sight, surreptitiously noticing the swing of her blade and envying the swiftness of her attack, some even beginning to plan how to lure this rare talent to join their army. With such a formidable general at their command, the threat of The Cat could possibly be nullified, and who could say for sure that the Queendom of Wonderland would continue to be under a Chess Piece's rule?

"In the recent week she has engaged in terribly subversive activities that merit the Queen classifying her as a type Heart danger to Internal Peace and Order. However, as yet the Clubs agents have proved as incompetent as their army, and have been unable to locate her. Thus, anyone who wishes to earn Her Imperial Viciousness's special regard, which should be every one of you, will step forward with a viable solution to this issue and earn it!"

_Well done, Cat. Keep the loss of The Hatter and the Red King from them at the moment. In any case, only the two of us and the Lady of Clubs is privy to that information, and when I'm done with her…_The table immediately broke out in heated discussion, suggestions, accusations and comments flying thick and fast across the conference room, but hardly was there one that was worth even listening to.

The Red Queen, as usual, sighed inwardly and turned her attention to the meticulously cultivated skyline of Queensland, with its sleek, steel towers rising like spires into the air, minarets sparkling in the sun, and residential buildings with veined obsidian facades. She frequently — that was to say, every time she called a meeting — came out here to ponder this sight, a microcosm of the city she had conquered a decade ago.

For ten years, she had thought (no, _known)_ that the lights of Wonderland were winking in perfect symphony with her thoughts, conspiratorial, as she conquered Wonderland and maintained her rule at every turn. But now, the seemed to wink in mockery of her vain efforts to catch the girl, derisive at the way her adversaries escaped from their fetters, at the way her fastidiously constructed Queendom of order and method seemed to be falling apart.

"Your Imperial Viciousness." A Clubs intelligence gatherer had come into the room and was standing at the Queen's elbow. "I beg pardon for the interruption, but you have a visitor. I believe he wishes to speak to you of a matter of considerable urgency."

She looked at him, silent, indicating for him to continue while the babble continued. The Club bowed in understanding, then pressed his arms to his sides, thrust his head out on his neck, and shuffled forward in quick little steps. Receiving no royal reaction, he did it a second time, this time alternately flapping his arms rapidly in addition to the ridiculous shuffle.

"What. Are. You. Doing?" the Red Queen hissed.

The minister formed an "O" with his mouth, motioned as if he were holding a hose…_or a hookah_, the Red Queen realised belatedly, to his lips, and inhaled. He crossed his eyes and removed the invisible tube from his mouth and exhaled, deeply.

"Absolem?" she asked quickly, her voice low and surprised, though the Club agent did not hear it.

"Yes, Your Imperial Viciousness, I didn't know if you wanted to — hurrk!" He was silenced suddenly, his tongue frozen in place, unable to budge.

"Thank you. And please call your mistress in for me."

Nodding mutely, he turned to the door, reaching for his crystal communicator when —

The doors slammed open, and the Lady of Clubs rushed in, frantic.

"Your Imperial Viciousness! Alice has reassembled the Jabberwock Eye Staff!"

Without moving a muscle, the Queen conjured a disembodied hand, hovering in front of the Minister of Candour, and delivered a tight slap.

"She bested the Jabberwock!"

*Slap*

"With the help of Razerious!"

*Slap*

"I am so — "

A long silver sword formed in the hand, and swung downwards, cutting off the words in the Lady of Clubs' throat, as well as the throat itself. As Royal Flush butlers cleaned up the remains of the recently-distraught Minister, the Red Queen herself vanished from the Throne Room, leaving the rest of the Ministers in shocked silence.

Sensing the tension, The Cat hastily explained. "Do you not think the Red Queen has her reasons? The Lady of Clubs was spreading malicious lies, to demoralise us! Surely that merits instant death! That the Red Queen has not sent her to the torture cells is a show of boundless magnanimousness!"

* * *

"What are you doing here?"

"To use the proper term, I am what you call the 'double agent'."

"If that is so…then I have even less reason to trust you!" The Red Queen lurched at the great worm, but he vanished before she could so much as aim a spear at his soft belly.

She heard puffing from behind her back and called upon lightning to strike him, but there was a loud fizzle and Wonderland's sovereign turned to see Absolem safely encased in a bubble of deflective energy.

"Oh, Iracebeth. You may _think _your world is all about order and restraint, but as I have proven, you aren't _any _better than a childish brat. _So_ quick to anger_…_"

"Get to the point."

"Let me put this simply. We are in a position to help each other. I feed you some valuable information as you…repay the appropriate favour I request. Do we have a deal?" Seeing that his Arcane skills were more powerful than even hers, the Red Queen saw no better option than to accept his offer — for now.

"Say your piece," she said, striding away from him to pace around the room.


End file.
